Tuesday, March 19, 2024
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Movie Review: ‘Femme’ is a Visually Sumptuous Yet Tense Anti-Love Story


Directors: Sam H. Freeman, Ng Choon Ping
Writers: Sam H. Freeman, Ng Choon Ping
Stars: George MacKay, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett, Aaron Heffernan

Synopsis: Follows Jules, who is targeted in a horrific homophobic attack, destroying his life and career. Some time after that event he encounters Preston, one of his attackers, in a gay sauna. He wants revenge.


When I saw the short film Femme at the 2021 SXSW Film Festival, I remember being shaken both by its striking filmmaking and its story involving a drag queen experiencing discrimination that plays into the struggles drag queens face in real life, whether it’s in the form of attempted anti-drag club legislation or physical altercations. The newest feature-length film of the same name, by directors Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping, adapting their own short, is a more heightened experience in terms of tension. 

The synopsis involving a drag queen forming a connection with a closeted drug dealer remains the same, while the short’s neon-drenched visual panache shines through. However, in place of Emmy nominee Paapa Essiedu and Harris Dickinson, who played the leads in the short film, are Nathan Stewart-Jarrett and George MacKay, respectively, who both won last year’s British Independent Film Award for Best Joint Lead Performance. 

In Femme, Stewart-Jarrett stars as Jules, a drag queen whose stage name is Aphrodite Banks. While on a nighttime stroll after doing a show, Jules becomes the victim of a vicious beating by a group of crooks led by their closeted leader, Preston (MacKay). Months later, after being left traumatized by the assault with his performing passion taken out of him, Jules has a chance encounter with Preston at a gay sauna that leads to a connection built mainly on sex and physicality. For Jules, it also becomes an opportunity for revenge and reclamation. 

To call Femme a doomed romance is an arguable stretch because there’s no exchanging of rapturous gazes or tender body language between both men during the many scenes of them getting physical. While Jules willingly submits himself to Preston’s raw aggression during their sexual encounters, Jules ponders as to whether he should film said encounters and post them online as his form of retaliation. 

The struggle becomes more apparent when witnessing the anxiety that Preston persistently experiences. Along with his intimidating tall stature and heavily tattooed body, Preston uses his short temper to put up a hyper-masculine facade when in the company of his similarly chauvinistic comrades. Yet, underneath the surface is Preston’s deep-seated fear of being found out, shown through his looking over his shoulder everywhere he goes. Preston’s nearly wordless fragile masculinity is expertly brought to life by lead actor George MacKay, who – between this, 1917, and Pride is making a case as one of his generation’s best talents.

Meanwhile, Nathan Stewart-Jarrett similarly astounds as the protagonist, Jules. Appearing unassuming through his hunched posture and how he always keeps his head down, the way he grins as he scrolls through a gay porn site, contemplating the idea of outing Preston there by filming and uploading a filmed encounter, stresses his deceptive nature. Similarly, during a scene where he ends up mingling with Preston’s friends at his place, his sly smile while fighting each of them on a game of Street Fighter gives him feelings of fulfilled retribution, even if there’s no physical fighting involved, and they don’t know he’s the one they victimized.

Whether it’s Jules being in the same company as his perpetrators or Preston glancing around him as he goes out in public, apprehension is present in nearly every scene. Thanks to the expressive leading performances and the meticulous screenplay by directors Sam H. Freeman and Ng Choon Ping, it is in the characters’ faces and actions that we see their anxieties shine through more than the use of exposition. Furthermore, the costume design by Buki Ebiesuwa reflects how the two leads must put on a mask for the world, like how Jules wears casual attire around Preston’s friends to ensure they don’t recognize him out of drag. 


Similarly lush in visual aesthetic as the short of the same name, Femme enriches the source material by offering a deeper exploration of gender identity and putting a queer spin on the heteronormative noir genre as its central lead engages in sensual double-crossing. Sexy, discomforting, and visually sumptuous, Femme makes its case as one of the year’s best movies.

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Road House’ Punches Itself Out


Director: Doug Liman
Writers: Anthony Bogarozzi, Chuck Mondry, R. Lance Hill
Stars: Jake Gyllenhaal, Jessica Williams, Conor McGregor

Synopsis: Ex-UFC fighter Dalton takes a job as a bouncer at a Florida Keys roadhouse, only to discover that this paradise is not all it seems.


The film follows Dalton (Jake Gyllenhaal), a former UFC middleweight fighter, as he runs away from his personal demons. The movie starts with Dalton walking into an underground fight club, ready to rumble with Carter (Post Malone), who quits before the match begins because of Dalton’s reputation alone. Frankie (Shrinking’s Jessica Williams), a businesswoman who owns a bar in the Florida Keys, immediately offers him a job of $5,000 a week for one month’s work, plus room and board, to be her bouncer.

Frankie’s establishment is called The Road House, a dive bar on the beach where live music has to play behind chicken wire because of the numerous fights that continuously break out. (You know, Blues Brothers style.) She has a loyal staff, including an adorable bartender, Laura (Why Women Kill’s B.K. Cannon), and some young muscle in Billy (How to Blow Up a Pipeline’s Lukas Gage), who lacks experience. After initially rejecting the offer, Dalton accepts the position after demolishing his car.

The script by Anthony Bagarozzi (The Nice Guys) and Chuck Mondry (Play Dirty) works well enough initially, mainly because Gyllenhaal revels in the role of Dalton, beating his enemies to a pulp with a switchblade grin and a clipped sense of humor, which is infectious. In particular, when he takes on a group of bikers led by JD Pardo and provides comic relief alongside Arturo Castro, driving them all to the hospital after some bone-crunching antics. This is all mindless fun, where a tough but flawed individual stands up for those who cannot help themselves. Everyone is good-looking, the music is distinct, and the mood is infectious.

Doug Liman directs Road House, an adaptation of the Patrick Swayze 1980s cult classic. Essentially, his version follows the path of a throwback Western, where the virtuous walk into a town defending those who cannot protect themselves, like Shane or The Pale Rider. In this case, you have a handful of over-the-top, cartoonish villains. One is Ben Brandt, played by the go-to yuppy antagonist Billy Magnussen, who tries to match Gyllenhaal’s comic relief but becomes tedious. 

Then you have Conor McGregor’s Knox, whose insanity is so extreme that you forgive any of his antics. Additionally, Joaquim de Almeida, the town sheriff, goes by the nickname “Big Dick” and has a connection to Dalton’s love interest, which is a classic, lazy trope. That is Daniela Melchior’s Ellie, who plays a local physician. She goes from detesting Dalton within seconds to wanting to get him in the middle of the ocean to what I imagine is an area called “Coral reefs of Passion.” I mention all of this because, for a two-hour film, Liman struggles to fit in so many supporting characters, and none of them interact or function in a believable way.

There are complaints that this Road House is ultraviolent, but by action or horror film standards, it’s tame. In fact, the fight scenes are highly digitized, particularly the first fight with Post Malone. However, the film doesn’t suffer from its bare-knuckle action. Still, after an thirty extra minutes, it deals with its mindless plot about the real reason Dalton was hired, which involves trying to take over the roadhouse because of its premium placement.

I hate to be cynical, but have these bad guys never heard of “Eminent Domain”? Or just building around the restaurant and having the property taxes rise so much that they must sell? Or, with all the fights, would the insurance premiums be through the roof? Finally, how can Frankie make enough to afford to pay Dalton all that money? These are all eye-rolling moments like Dalton telling Billy that one guy has a knife, and when he pulls it, just take a step back and punch him. He offers this type of on-the-job training while sitting behind a bar where he can’t jump in to help save the kid if something goes wrong.

You can let that thoughtless storytelling slide, but it’s when the movie goes into secret agent mode, with Dalton taking a boat (and setting off explosives, blowing it up, with no explanation) to become a superhero, that it becomes tedious and overblown. This leads to a final showdown between Dalton and Knox, where you have to ask yourself how one guy knew where the other would be to begin with.

Doug Liman’s Road House worked better as a minimalist barfly film between the small cast of characters that would have significantly benefited from focusing on Dalton’s backstory and developing intimate relationships. Instead, we have an overstuffed action film that struggles with tone and overstays its welcome. Then, it loses a charming Jake Gyllenhaal performance, which is the sole reason to watch, to begin with.

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘Arthur the King’ Crowns Sentiment Over Danger


Director: Simon Cellan Jones
Writer: Michael Brandt
Stars: Mark Wahlberg, Simu Liu, Nathalie Emmanuel

Synopsis: An adventure racer adopts a stray dog named Arthur to join him and his team in an epic endurance race.


Unfolding like a thematic cross between Nyad and one of the many recent find-and-replace titles like A Dog’s Way Home, or Journey, or Purpose, or Dream, or Will, or Tale, or — you get it, yes? — there isn’t anything particularly special about Arthur the King. It’s an adventure film, one so easy to pin down you’ll feel as though you’ve seen it before. One you know the beats of before it begins, one you’d be hard-pressed not to predict, a movie with a one-track mind that is more interested in tugging at your heartstrings than telling an original story. Maybe that’s because it’s based on a true story, which is to say that a single cursory Google search will tell you whether or not the titular dog dies at the end. I won’t spoil that here, but I also wonder if doing so would really tilt the scales of your interest in seeing this movie in the first place.

That’s also not to say, despite its telegraphed narrative and cloying efforts to get you to shed a tear, that there’s anything particularly wrong with Arthur the King, either (Apart from, you know, its racist star’s penchant for hate crimes, sexism, et. al. But he found God!). Director Simon Cellan Jones’ follow-up to 2023’s The Family Plan, which seemingly got him hooked on Mark Wahlberg, or vice versa, is as by the numbers as it gets, an underdog tale about a group of adventure racers discovering the value of man’s-best-friend-ship, all while overcoming adversity in the form of rough terrains, battered egos, and the “insurmountable” odds stacked against them. Whether or not the central team wins their race isn’t the point; this film is hell-bent on making you feel something, one way or another.

Perhaps that feeling is anger, for having spent two hours of your life subconsciously rooting for Wahlberg (who plays Michael Light, an Americanized iteration of the real-life Swedish adventure racer Mikael Lindnord, on whom the film is based). Or perhaps you’ll find genuine inspiration watching the periodic triumphs of Light’s team, a murderer’s row of seasoned adventure movie tropes — we have the climber (Nathalie Emmanuel), the navigator (Ali Suliman), and the Instagram-famous comedic foil (Simu Liu). Michael is widely considered to be one of the best to never win his sport’s top competition, and he’s all-but aged out of prime contention for the Adventure Racing World Series. 

Yet he can’t escape the itch, an inkling that if he had just one more shot at the title, along with the right team by his side, he’d be able to come out on top. So, Michael convinces his wife Helen (Juliet Rylance) that this will be his last ride, and he finds enough sponsors to fund his training for one last brush with his perilous passion. The crew packs their bags with enough water and frozen meatballs for a journey through the Dominican jungle; along the way, they encounter a stray dog, whom they call Arthur. He loves their meatballs, while the ever-softening Michael loves his company. It’s a match made in heaven from the jump. 

Many will find it difficult not to roll their eyes at the film’s hokey framework, and yet I can’t deny instinctually pumping my fist whenever this underestimated crew made some sort of strive toward potential victory. I also can’t deny the existence of the titular canine, reason enough to latch onto Arthur’s otherwise-predetermined structure. And although these sorts of stories tend to be my kryptonite — I’m happy anytime a dog appears on screen; sue me — there is more to Arthur than a recognizable narrative, cast, and the existence of its central mutt.

Arthur The King is far from perfect, but at least it effectively harnesses the power these movies rarely neglect yet never master: Being infused with hope, no matter the adversity the characters face. When it comes to garden variety sports movies, straying from the stock formula is more likely to drive typical audiences away as opposed to steering viewers in a given film’s direction. What separates the sports movies that are “fine” and those that are “straight-up bad” — great sports films are few and far between these days — often boils down to talent in front of the camera and/or a steady hand behind it. Thematically, you can find quite a few similarities between Remember the Titans and Next Goal Wins, but only the former starred Denzel Washington. The latter was mailed in by Taika Waititi and not even Michael Fassbender could keep Next Goal Wins above water.


Stylistically, I can imagine Baltasar Kormákur’s version of this film, a slightly darker rendition of the same story that leans more into the danger these adventurers face on a daily basis while treating their fifth teammate as a furry sidekick deployed only when necessary, and then placed front and center during the final act when Michael has to choose between glory and loyalty. But the choices Cellan Jones makes in Arthur the King arguably better serve a film of its ilk due to their emphasis on sentiment. Sure, Arthur lays its heart on a little heavy at times, but you’d rather that than be stuck with a film that is okay leaving every ounce of warmth on the cutting room floor in favor of needless stunts and weightless action.

Grade: C+

Movie Review: ‘Asleep in My Palm’ Gives Grace to Difference


Director: Henry Nelson
Writer: Henry Nelson
Stars: Tim Blake Nelson, Chloë Kerwin, Grant Harvey

Synopsis: Asleep in My Palm explores the nature of parenthood and class as a father and daughter live off the grid in rural Ohio where they must confront the challenges of her sexual awakening as he escapes a violent and conflicted past.


Henry Nelson’s Asleep in My Palm is almost as heartbreaking as Debra Granik’s Leave No Trace. The comparison is naturally going to be made between the two films as both feature a father and daughter duo living off grid because of the father’s intense military service-related PTSD. Granik’s film is a masterpiece and Nelson’s work will exist in its long shadow. However, Asleep in My Palm distinguishes itself by shifting the focus to the self-imposed predicament created by Tom (Tim Blake Nelson) as one based in uncontained rage at the world. His only balm is Beth Ann (Chloë Kerwin), now sixteen years old and beginning to find herself curious about the world beyond the one created by him.

The film begins with Tom giving Beth Ann his interpretation of Disney’s Chicken Little. Not the original short made for American wartime propaganda, but the panned 2005 movie. His version is a tale he’s telling about himself. A “bespectacled homunculus” chicken who no one believes or likes, who maybe lives in Paterson, New Jersey. One who is bullied and ostracized by the community and later forms a gang to take them down. He doesn’t have to because everything does go to shit. This Chicken Little “Looks up and he’s happy because he’s been dead for years, and the last thing he’s going to see is those fuckers eating shit.” Maybe he saw the crack and what others can’t see.

Beth Ann questions his story with a sleepy kindness and tells him to be safe as he leaves their tiny storage unit which doubles as their home. Despite the sodden and slushy Ohio snow, the storage unit is still a “home.” Whatever Tom is doing, and most of it is criminal, his focus is keeping Beth Ann wrapped warm and tight.

But how tight can someone like Tom really hold on to a young woman who is beginning to wonder about the world beyond the two of them? Tom has given her a better education than most college kids would get. They are living near the famous Oberlin College; a place where a month’s tuition would keep Tom and Beth Ann alive for years. Yet, Beth Ann has never been to a party. She’s committed crimes – she can break and enter like a professional, but she’s almost a total innocent.

Tom is used to the exhausting hustle. Along with Jose (a strange incel type played by Jared Abrahamson) he steals whatever he can from the college dorms. Jose believes that women liking Radiohead’s ‘Creep’ is an act of cultural appropriation. He’s an idiot Tom tolerates but seemingly doesn’t care about. His manic energy and ridiculous statements weary an already weary man. 

Tom is cynical and jaded about the modern world and has kept Beth Ann from it. No phones, no television, no computers. An itinerant life where they can just move on once a place no longer serves its purpose or gets “too hot” — if he was in a Michael Mann film he’d almost be considered urbane. But Asleep in My Palm is not Heat.

Tom is an enigma, perhaps even to himself. The audience knows he was in Desert Storm, but who was he before that? Who did he become afterwards? How is a man living hand to mouth able to debate metaphysics or give a quick lesson on the Stoics? When he meets a bunch of bored college kid “Satanists” he’s able to break down the philosophy of “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law,” as espoused by the Thelemites and Aleister Crowley.

Crafting an imaginative world filled with joy and small wonders for Beth Ann has filled his aching loneliness. Beth Ann’s mother is simply, “gone.” But Beth Ann can’t stay forever the urchin and waif — the Paper Moon lifestyle of modern-day panhandling and swindling has an end point. That end point is sexual maturity and adult curiosity.

Chloë Kerwin plays Beth Ann with vulnerability and curiosity. She adores Tom, she wants to protect him as much as he wants to protect her, but she meets people who show her that there is a world she’s been forbidden to explore. One that can be as ugly as Tom warned her, but one which also contains beautiful and enchanting women such as Gus Birney’s rich girl Millah, who likes the idea of slumming it with Grant Harvey’s ‘Dark Mortius.’ A single kiss from Millah and some time spent being seen by someone else and Beth Ann is smitten. 

Just as Tom (Thomasin McKenzie) says to Will (Ben Foster) in Leave No Trace, “The same thing that’s wrong with you isn’t wrong with me” Beth Ann has to tell her father “No one’s going to remember me. Just you. There are no pictures of me.” It’s not enough for her any longer to be invisible from the institutional monsters. She has the one thing Tom wishes she would never have, desire. Not a desire for the material, but for some form of autonomy — which ironically is what Tom was striving towards himself but can’t manage.

Henry Nelson captures life on the outskirts with humanity and sometimes almost absurd humor. He doesn’t pretend that it is a life anyone would truly desire unless they were broken by uncaring systems. When Millah tells Beth Ann that she is more adult at the age of sixteen than she will ever be, she means it. They have a shared envy of each other’s lives. But Millah eventually will just fall into a safety net of privilege. She will live a small life but a safe one. College is the time she gets before she ends up married and doing charity events.

Asleep in My Palm is a film which documents the small American tragedies. The world of poverty is still around the rust belt next to generational wealth. Asleep in My Palm is a lyrical film with extraordinary performances by Nelson and Kerwin. It is patiently and expertly shot which makes the interspersed violence all the more impactful. The only real criticism that can be leveled is an extraneous mystery and solution at the end of the film which brings up a question no one was asking. 

Asleep in My Palm is an outstanding debut by Henry Nelson, and he has the great fortune to be directing his father, who is one of America’s finest character actors. Love is complex and families even more so. Asleep in My Palm gives grace to two people just trying to find a place in the world — one who will never truly belong because he has never healed his trauma, and one who has a chance to fly higher and see if the sky really is falling in.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘DogMan’ is Besson Off His Leash


Director: Luc Besson
Writer: Luc Besson
Stars: Caleb Landry Jones, Jojo T. Gibbs, Christopher Denham

Synopsis: A boy, bruised by life, finds his salvation through the love of his dogs.


Roger Ebert said of Nicolas Roeg’s Track 29, “Somebody asked me if I liked this movie, and I had to answer that I did not, but then I realized once again what an inadequate word “like” is. The reason I didn’t like it is that the film is unlikable – perhaps deliberately so. But that doesn’t make it a bad film, and it probably makes it a more interesting one… it is bad-tempered. But not every film is required to massage us with pleasure. Some are allowed to be abrasive and frustrating, to make us think.” Ebert’s quote would be germane to Luc Besson’s DogMan if the film was setting out to make the audience think. However, Besson decides on unlikeable, frustrating, and doing all the “thinking” for the audience. DogMan is blunt-force abrasive, but it is possible at least to find sections interesting.

Douglas (Caleb Landry Jones) is a man whose tortured existence means the only pack he can trust are his preternaturally clever “children” — a motley crew of smooth criminal canines. Brought up in a strangely timeless Newark by a violently dysfunctional family, Doug has more ‘anti-hero’ origin stories than a continually re-written comic book character. Was it the moment he was caught feeding scraps to the dogs his father bred for fighting? Was it when his slack-jawed ultra-religious brother had him locked in the cage with the dogs for most of his childhood? Was it when his beloved mother finally left the cradle of filth that was his home neglecting to let him out of the cage as she departed? Or was it when his father decided to shoot the puppies Doug was protecting but instead shot off one of Doug’s fingers and left a bullet lodged in his spine which will one day kill him?

Doug is arrested in full Marilyn Monroe drag trying to flee the scene of a gang war massacre with his beloved babies, and it is up to Doctor Evelyn Decker (Jojo T. Gibbs) to work out the enigma of the fluid and adapting Dog Man through his baroque narration of his life.

Doug is polite, educated, and so well versed in the Bard his history is Shakespearean. Is he Viola, Richard II, Falstaff, or Iago? Is he Hamlet or Juliet? Avenging angel or demon from the bowels of hell? Perhaps he is all three of Macbeth’s witches? The only thing that is certain is that he is weaving constant illusions to avoid being uncovered. That, and he regards humanity as a blight because they believe they have transcended their animal instincts. “The weak are killed in nature. But they survive in humanity. For a while. God always finds his own.”

A bizarre Bildungsroman, DogMan chronicles Doug’s life as an institutionalized child who falls in love with his guidance counselor and drama teacher Salma Bailey (Grace Palma) who takes the broken boy through the whirlwind of make believe which he first experienced reading his mother’s hidden ‘Women’s Magazines.’ Through Salma, he becomes a wheelchair using Richard Burbage, Will Kemp, and Margaret Hughes. Makeup and make-believe transport him from his isolation. He is seen and admired by his previously bullying peers, but not for being himself — for being someone else. Eventually, Salma heads to Broadway leaving a heartbroken boy who will eventually find his way back to the ones he cannot abandon, and will not abandon him, his dogs.

Doug’s journey through the callousness of reality is echoed by the strays he cares for. He has no home — they have no home. He doesn’t train his children to do tricks, they simply understand what he wants. Instead, he trains himself to perform. Unable to find a job despite having a degree, Doug holes himself up in an abandoned high school with his ever-expanding fur family and by chance becomes a drag artiste doing swirling renditions of Édith Piaf (an extraordinary scene) and Marlene Dietrich in “Lili Marlene” mode. Community supported by Annie Lennoxes, Madonnas and Chers, Douglas finds liberation behind illusion. He also has a successful side hustle in high end jewelry theft carried out by his crew. None of it is about the money – he just needs enough to keep his family fed.

Insurance investigators and Latino gang-bangers all try to take Doug down and meet a grisly end. It is Willard without the horror, or Doctor Dolittle as Duela Dent. Grisly, gritty, and stylishly captured, the essence of Besson’s cinema du look heightens the choreographed violence. Fetishistic in extremis, but also peculiarly sexless.

There is God’s law and dog’s law; Douglas is an adherent to both. God sent him dogs as a panacea to soothe his suffering. “Dogs only have one flaw, they love humans.” One suspects Besson decided to make the whole film in English and film it in “America” because chien spelled backwards means nothing.

Doug’s confession to Evelyn serves a purpose to prove his existence before it is erased and to alleviate her pain. An exhausted single mother with a violent father and similarly violent ex-husband, she can’t keep from her young child; Evelyn is also in need of protection. Hence the man behind a thousand curtains comes into the light to send her an angel before he meets his fate. 

DogMan should be, in some manner, entertaining. It is darkly funny, but Besson enjoys torturing the audience through Doug’s misfortunes too much. The philosophical and ethical discussions between Doug and Evelyn are exhaustingly exposition heavy. Besson shows and over tells, never getting the balance right. For example, we see Christopher Denham’s venal and sweaty insurance adjuster stalking Doug thinking he’s captured the femme fatale; but Doug has already told Evelyn (and shown in flashbacks) his knack for manipulation and dog-eat-man war. We know exactly what is coming.

If not for Caleb Landry Jones’ wounded but bravura performance, DogMan would be near insufferable. Jones is a compelling and beguiling presence. It’s not surprising he has been previously scooped up as a villain in Jordan Peele’s Get Out. He’s also a fragile romantic interest in Neil Jordan’s Byzantium. His best roles are the ones where he is an oddball outsider such as Brandon Cronenberg’s Antiviral. His best role to date has been the titular character in Justin Kurzel’s Nitram. There’s something indefinable about his screen charisma. He’s a less beautiful Cillian Murphy or Christopher Abbott but whatever those two have, he also has.

Besson has never opted for subtle nor is he beyond self-plagiarism. He’s made La Femme Nikita essentially three times (the original which spawned a two remakes and two television series), as evidenced by Lucy and Anna. His best loved science-fiction film The Fifth Element he cannibalized for Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets. As for subtlety, although gorgeous, Les Aventures extraordinaires d’Adèle Blanc-Sec required two cuts. One to appeal to the younger aged adventure and Gaslamp enthusiasts, and one which had our fearless heroine very often unclothed just because she’s beautiful. An entire paragraph can be written just about the Taxi and Transporter franchises. Léon: The Professional is again a topic too large to be here within encompassed.

DogMan could be construed as mash-up of Le Dernier Combat and Subway. DogMan is low budget Besson off his leash after the massively expensive flop that was Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets. It has style to burn but substance is either blatantly telegraphed or scant.

If you crave Luc Besson’s mysteriously religious, ultra-camp, and ferocious style with Caleb Landry Jones (and the junior version of Doug) being caked in mud, blood, or pancake makeup while devising schemes like an obsessive scrapbooker and master chef: then by all means DogMan is there for the taking. Also, there are the wonderful dogs working like a finely tuned orchestra. However, be warned, the antihero revenge wish fulfilment fantasy is often sickly and sloppy. It is more a tatty wig and obvious scars than genre hybrid genius. 

Grade: C

List: The Best Onscreen Smokers

Note: This is in no way an endorsement of smoking or tobacco use. This is for entertainment purposes only

Full disclosure: I used to smoke. It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but it’s also something I miss every day. This constant longing for nicotine has endeared me to the actors and actresses in films who take to smoking like an artform. Ask any former smoker, and they can tell you who actually smokes or who has never had a cigarette in their lives before lighting up on screen. The 2023 Oscar season featured a number of accomplished smoking performances, including Helen Mirren in Golda, Bradley Cooper in Maestro, and Da’Vine Joy Randolph in The Holdovers. This year is off to a solid start with Kristen Stewart’s on-again-off-again smoker in Love Lies Bleeding. Inspired by Stewart’s tour-de-force smoking ability, I now present to you, the top ten film smokers.

10. Denzel Washington – Best Smoking As A Prop

You could make a strong case as Denzel being the best living actor. One of his greatest achievements is his ability to shift his on-screen persona. But more than anything, Washington uses each piece of his environment to create a character, and that includes cigarettes. Whether it’s the loosey he applies during the early scenes of Malcolm X, the coolly accessorized cigs from Devil in a Blue Dress, or even the climactic poison smoke in Fallen, the smoking serves a purpose. And there is none more purposeful than in his Oscar-winning turn in Training Day. Denzel’s corrupt cop smokes throughout the film, whether in a car, on a rooftop, or in his bedroom counting his money. No one knows how to add to a character with a cigarette quite like Denzel. And don’t you dare wince when he blows smoke in your face.

9. Robert Mitchum – Best Noir Smoker

Mitchum was never seen as the most accomplished of actors, but the guy knew what he did well: film noir. The actor famously went into scenes in Out of the Past unprepared to make the film more spontaneous and tense. Smoking is such a part of Mitchum’s noir pastiche, it’s on the freaking poster! Cigarettes are a touchtone of film noir atmosphere, and no one made it fit better than Mitchum.

8. Marlene Dietrich – Prettiest Smoker

Few people have a face like Marlene Dietrich. Black-and-white photography and proper lighting just makes the woman’s face glow in a way others just don’t. While the act of smoking is much associated with illness and repugnance, Dietrich makes it look like the most natural thing in the world. Even one of her most iconic images features a cigarette, which just looks right. In one of her most famous roles, 1931’s Shanghai Express, she drags and just lets the smoke lazily waft up past her lips, nose, eyes, and hair. It’s like the cigarette is screaming at the audience to note how mind-numbingly gorgeous this woman is. I can’t blame the cigarette for trying to get us to notice.

7. Humphrey Bogart – Smoking as a Companion

Has anyone looked more natural with a cigarette than he? Never did a film go by where Bogie wasn’t supported by his favorite tobacco co-star. That being said, he never made it a part of his performance, but rather a piece of art imitating life. The man lived to smoke and that obviously would translate to his on-screen adventures. His entire film persona wasn’t one of action and adventure, but one of passive complacency. You don’t see much of Bogart mixing it up. You see more of him sitting behind a desk with a whisky and a Lucky Strike. It’s as much a part of him as his iconic voice. It’s not even the first few things you think about his persona. It’s just a part of the package. You want Bogart, you get smoking.

6. Samuel L. Jackson – Cigarettes as the Coolest Accessory

Samuel L. Jackson is one of the most consistently cool-as-hell actors of our time. When he smokes in film, it just makes him seem that much cooler. Whether it’s the down-on-his-luck Mitch Hennessey in The Long Kiss Goodnight, the chain-smoking Mr. Arnold in Jurassic Park, the “where can I put my ash” of Ordell in Jackie Brown, or the smoking-while-playing-guitar melancholy of Lazarus in Black Snake Moan, Jackson makes it look that much cooler. This piece is not supposed to be an endorsement of smoking, but Jackson’s on-screen-smoking charisma makes it tough.

5. Robert De Niro – Smoking as Method

Robert De Niro is famously method. The guys lives his roles. When that character is a smoker, De Niro lives smoking. Whether it’s the 9,000 cigarettes he goes through in Casino, or his cigarettes turning into an actual plot point for Midnight Run, De Niro places his smoking into his roles seamlessly. You’ve seen that “hear an image” meme going around, and nothing is better encapsulated that than De Niro in the above image from Goodfellas. Just look at that guy. He is not faking it. His cheeks are pulled in the whole way. That heater never stood a chance against De Niro’s commitment to the role.

4. Roy Scheider – Best Hands-Free Usage

You know those Oscar categories like Production Design or Makeup/Hairstyling where the best usually means the most? When it comes to the “most” smoking, Scheider comes out victorious just because of his performance in All That Jazz. Not only is it a constant, never-ending stream of cigarettes entering, lighting, ashing, discarding and entering again, no one hangs on to a cigarette while talking like Scheider. His hands are too busy as the thinly-veiled version of Bob Fosse. That performance could have gotten on this list alone, but Scheider also has iconic talk-smoking in Jaws. Not only is he smoking without using his hands, he delivers one of the most iconic lines in cinema with a cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth. That’s smoking talent.

3. Audrey Hepburn – Most Regal Smoker

Audrey Hepburn is the peak of regal, classic beauty. You don’t automatically think of her as a smoker, which only enhances her power. But her proclivity for on-screen smoking speaks for itself. Who else has a nearly-18-minute montage of smoking? Even one of her most iconic roles in Breakfast at Tiffany’s features her cigarette hanging out of a long black filter. Smoking has been long-associated with early aging and diminished beauty. But not for Hepburn. One of cinema’s most enduring beauties didn’t let a little thing like constant smoking stop her from aging gracefully.

2. Tony Leung/Maggie Cheung – Sexiest Smoking Couple

This is almost cheating, because this list is meant to encapsulate a career of smoking. That being said, how do you negate the pair of sexiest smokers in the history of film? Leung and Cheung’s searing chemistry is already there, but the lingering smoke seeping in the air in front of Wong Kar-Wai’s camera adds as much to the story as the silence does. I could have just included Leung, as his partnership with Kar-Wai has a long history of smoking, but it felt wrong not pairing Leung and Cheung. They are intrinsically linked through their shared nicotine intake.

1. Brad Pitt – The Smoking GOAT

The greatest on-screen smoker. It probably helps that Pitt has reportedly smoked off-screen for years, but no one makes it look more natural. Thelma & Louise, Sleepers, Kalifornia, Snatch, Killing Them Softly, Fury, Once Upon A Time in Hollywood, and Babylon all feature a cigarette-laden Pitt puffing away. But it was his tour-de-force smoking performance in Fight Club which sets the Oscar-winner apart from the crowd. It’s not just about his memorable chiseled physique and gonzo energy; it’s constantly paired with a smoke. It’s not an accessory, it’s an extension of his body. There’s nowhere and no situation where Pitt doesn’t light up. In a bar, pre-fight, post-fight, while intimidating a city official, even in the freaking bathtub. No one smokes like Brad Pitt and no one ever will.

The Films Of Monsieur Max

In the opening scene to 1950’s La Ronde, the master of ceremonies (Anton Walbrook) walks across the stage and the camera follows him. It goes from one side to the other as he walks off the stage and goes behind the floodlights and camera on set while explaining the story is a series of episodes about love. He will pop in and out of the episodes, sometimes interfering with visual gags (the actual cutting of film), leading viewers to complete the titular circle of love. This was the first film I saw directed by Max Ophuls, who clearly had a unique eye to change how a camera moved and not simply horizontal or vertical on a track. Instead, he drew circles around his cast like a professional ballroom dancer to a Viennese waltz.   

Life Of A Ringmaster

Max Ophuls was born in Saarbrücken, Germany, in 1902. His family, successful in textile manufacturing, disapproved of Max’s interest in the theatre, so he changed his last name. His surname was not Ophuls, but Oppenheimer (no relation to the atomic bomb’s maker), and as a Jewish man, he was aware of the obvious anti-Semitism in his country after World War I. Ophuls first sought to be an actor and was for a short period until he was given the opportunity to direct a play. In 1923, Ophuls began directing a string of plays in Dortmund and in Vienna, Austria at the Burgtheater. There, he would meet an actress, Hilde Wall, who he would later marry and have a son with, Marcel, who directed The Sorrow And The Pity about the French resistance. The city would be central to his filmmaking career.

In 1930, Ophuls would get his start in directing movies when he was hired by UFA in Berlin, joining other major directors including Fritz Lang, Josef von Sternberg, and Ernst Lubitsch; all before they moved to Hollywood. His first film was a forty-minute comedy called I’d Rather Have Cod-Liver Oil. But after Adolf Hitler became Chancellor in 1933, Ophuls and his family fled to France and later became citizens. When World War II began in 1939, Ophuls was hired to write and perform on radio a series of anti-Nazi broadcasts, but as France was on the verge of falling, Ophuls and his family again fled, first to Portugal, and then reaching the United states in 1941. 

However, he would not get work immediately until writer/director Preston Sturges, a fan of Ophuls’s film Leibelei back in 1933, persuaded studios to hire Ophuls as they had done with emerging European directors including Alfred Hitchcock, Jean Renoir, and Billy Wilder. His first film, the Howard Hughes-produced Vendetta, was a fiasco as he and Sturges were both fired due their slow pace of work. Four films were completed in Hollywood, most notably The Exile (1947) starring Douglas Fairbanks Jr., and Letter From An Unknown Woman (1948) starring Joan Fontaine and Louis Jourdan. After this frustrating period, Ophuls decided to return to France.

The last four films he would make — La Ronde (1950), Le Plaisir (1952), The Earrings of Madame de . . . (1953), and Lola Montès (1955)— are considered his masterpieces. La Ronde would actually win the BAFTA for Best Film, as well as garner an Oscar nomination for its screenplay. After the difficulty of finishing Lola Montes, he would go on to start making Montparnasse 19. Sadly, he would not get to finish it. While in production, Ophuls died from heart disease on March 26, 1957, aged 54. His close friend, director Jacques Becker, would complete the picture and release it the following year. 

The Man With A Dancing Camera

The camera exists to create a new art and to show above all what cannot be seen elsewhere: neither in theater nor in life; otherwise, I’d have no need of it; doing photography doesn’t interest me. That I leave to the photographer. – Max Ophuls

Ophuls was widely known for his unique camera movements and long takes, never keeping anyone static, but always making a meaning for his camera. They are smooth, with dollies, and the use of crane shots. He uses countless tracking shots and long takes, minimizing the editing, and is open to having his camera moving up and down and gliding in different angles. “Life is movement,” Ophuls once said. James Mason, who worked on two films directed by Ophuls, wrote a poem in tribute to him mentioning his directing style. “A shot that does not call for tracks is agony for poor old Max,” he wrote. “Who, separated from his dolly, is wrapped in deepest melancholy. Once, when they took away his crane, I thought he’d never smile again.” 

Ophuls focused on themes of adultery, love, honor, idolatry, and the hypocrisy of the elite for their superficialness. The Earrings of Madame de… is such an example in which the opening sequence involves the leading character with her lavish lifestyle forced her to sell a pair because of debts. He is interested in the private lives of these people because the public has a fascination with them, especially the scandalous parts. The atmosphere is circus-like, as seen in Lola Montes, and there is always a Baroque element in his sets and costumes, which he leaves to the designers to take care of. Vienna is a usual setting because of time there and how much it influenced him in his career. The score is more waltzy than traditional in which the actors also dance with it. 

Actors loved working with him, even when he could turn tyrannical at times, but he was so widely admired that actors returned to work with Ophuls for other films. It was rare to have a closeup of them, insisting that their body language be the main expression. Besides James Mason, other notable names who worked with Ophuls include Anton Walbrook, Simone Signoret, Peter Ustinov, Simone Simon, Charles Boyer, and Martine Carol. Most of his films are female-centered, although not always sympathetic to its characters, and there are virtually no happy endings. Famously, for Lola Montes, Martine Carol was not his preference for the titular role but was forced upon him, as was the use of color, and that it had to be shot in English, French, and German. 

No Cushions For Hypocrites

Max Ophuls loved to poke at these historical figures who do not uphold such high esteemed values, making his latter films strong social satire. His interest in the perverse was buttered up with an air of cruelty that sometimes denied a happy ending, yet did not have it end on a strong down note. For someone who didn’t have a really scandalous private life, Ophuls was someone who loved to find novels and plays that dug up dirt on these people and spun it to humiliate them with glee in a comical manner. His spinning top was the camera moving at a pace to make the characters, not us, dizzy in their pursuit of pleasure. The ending of The Earrings of Madame de . . ., while ambiguous, is a lose-lose result for the main character. The last words of Lola Montes is a resigned, “Life goes on.” 

Ophuls’ work is playful and sensual without overdoing it, choosing subtlety over overtness. It is the total opposite to Yorgos Lanthimos’ hypersexualized surrealism in the era of Queen Anne and the Victorian period. There is an emotional pull that connects every scene and every episode within his work. Dying young robbed us of more films from Ophuls that entertained the moments of love that lead to probable heartbreak, that the desire for gratification is a very fragile and fickle thing. Then again, life is short…and life goes on.

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Movie Review: ‘Ricky Stanicky’ Cannot Be Helped, Even By Efron and Cena


Director: Peter Farrelly
Writers: Jeffrey Bushell, Brian Jarvis, James Lee Freeman, Peter Farrelly, Pete Jones, Mike Cerrone
Stars: Zac Efron, John Cena, Jermaine Fowler, Andrew Santino

Synopsis: When three childhood best friends pull a prank that goes wrong, they invent the imaginary Ricky Stanicky to get them out of trouble. Twenty years later, they still use the nonexistent Ricky as a handy alibi for their immature behavior.


One of my bigger gripes with streamers unceremoniously dumping genre fare on their platforms with all the fanfare of a traffic jam is how well many of those films would play in a theater. Of course, many recent titles landed on streaming services partially due to the impact the COVID-19 pandemic had on the moviegoing experience (oh, how I wish I could have seen Palm Springs in a packed picturehouse). But even in the years since cinemas reopened en masse, movies of ostensible theatrical quality have fallen by the wayside in regards to the attention they should receive due a streaming release. 

Think about a film like 2022’s Prey, a fresh offering under the Predator umbrella; it was a sneaky hit on Hulu, yet I can’t help but think about the way it would’ve looked on the big screen. Bradley Cooper’s Maestro, a Netflix original, is a curious case study. It received plenty of acclaim, not to mention seven Academy Award nominations, but as someone who saw the film both in a theater and at home, I can confidently assert that it plays significantly better when projected rather than displayed on a television or laptop. I have serious fears for Richard Linklater’s Hit Man, a sexy, uproarious rom-com that premiered to much acclaim at festivals last fall, yet will land on Netflix on June 7 with no accompanying theatrical release, per usual. That film is simply so alive; it begs to be seen with a crowd.

Ricky Stanicky does not.

There’s a bit more to it than that. But perhaps the best way to summarize its potential for such status is by noting that a lot of what Ricky Stanicky feigns to be — not just be about, but be in substance — it screams “theatrical comedy”, provided that we’ve traveled back in time to 2007. I can envision a cast featuring Paul Rudd, Jason Segel, and Danny McBride, or actors of that ilk, playing a trio of successful jamokes who, in their youth, invented an imaginary scapegoat and have let him live on into the present. They have jobs, wives/partners, and adult responsibilities, all of which they are willing to abandon on the condition that they won’t be faulted for said abandonment. Of course, that’s because the blame always falls on Ricky Stanicky. I can see Judd Apatow or Adam McKay mining humor out of this premise, the aforementioned actors making lemonade out of the outwardly-lemonish dick jokes they’ve been served on a platter, and audiences eating it all up. 

Maybe these visions of mine carry more weight because that was the intention for the project back when it landed on the 2010 Black List, thus deeming it one of that year’s best unproduced screenplays. Since then, Jim Carrey, James Franco, and Joaquin Phoenix (?!) were all in line to play Ricky, a dubious honor that ultimately went to John Cena. And it’s even more evident that the script has gone through an incessant slew of revisions over time, to the point where it now has six credited writers, as well as two separate “story by” credits for David Occhino and Jason Decker. It’s a patchwork piece at best, which is too bad, considering how much fun Cena is clearly having (and willing to have), and the fact that, in better hands and at a different time, I can genuinely imagine it making just north of a nine-figure box office return. 

Instead, it’s 2024, so Ricky Stanicky is littered with stand-up comedians who don’t act so much as they play renamed versions of themselves, directed by Peter Farrelly, and plopped on Amazon Prime, right around the corner from the discount toilet plungers. (I can only assume that a poop joke was left out of Ricky Stanicky’s final cut, though a pee joke made it through the edit alive.) Its footprint, solely digital; its jokes a return to form for Farrelly, who made Green Book and The Greatest Beer Run Ever; and clearly felt he’d done his duty for sincere-ish storytelling and wished to retreat to his dick joke haven. 

Zac Efron (Dean) stars as a nothingburger of a hedge fund bro who, along with Andrew Santino (JT) and Jermaine Fowler (Wes), have a get-out-of-jail-free-card for just about anything in the form of the titular character. One of the first examples we see is Dean and JT itching to ditch  JT’s baby shower in favor of a Marc Rebillet concert in Atlantic City. How do  they get out of the shower? Ricky’s cancer is back; the boys have to head to Albany to be present when he gets out of surgery.

When the dudes are forced to leave their weekend getaway early when JT’s wife goes into labor — darn! — they return to an entourage of dubious family members, who called every hospital in Albany trying to get a hold of one of the guys (they turned their phones off so they couldn’t be tracked), and there was no record of any Ricky or Stanicky anywhere. So, in an effort to keep up appearances with their loved ones, Dean comes up with a bright idea: Why don’t they hire the alcoholic actor they met while at a bar in A.C.? His name is “Rock-Hard” Rod, and while he might not be the best bet at convincing their families of Ricky’s legitimacy, our main men aren’t exactly swimming in options.

Enter Rod, who is just as committed to the bit of being Ricky as Cena is to playing him, but the whole sham these morons cooked up is a disaster waiting to happen. Especially because Rod enjoys being Ricky so much that he won’t take the money and run. Once the gig is up, Rod’s method acting persists; he even gets hired by Dean and JT’s boss, and swiftly receives a title with higher status and pay than the aforementioned duo. Nevermind that Rod’s only true skills are finding ways to sexualize the lyrics to popular rock songs for his one man show — it didn’t make me laugh, but I’d kill to see Peter Frampton’s reaction to Rod singing, “Ooh baby, I masturbate, everyday yeah, yeah”, — because “Ricky” is a jack of all trades. The more Rod hams it up, the further into chaos Dean, JT, and Wes’ lives are thrown.

If only this chaos was handled with any sort of regard for real humor rather than a rapidly-unspooling thread of stale quips and gags. This is the sort of film that is more concerned with how a line reads than how it lands or even relates to the plot; I recall Wes mentioning, “Sometimes I feel like I’m in a gay Handmaid’s Tale”, but what that referenced is of less import to the script than the fact that Wes mentioned a recognizable streaming property. The point — both of this line and the movie as a whole — isn’t to reinvent the wheel, but you’d think it might at least try to split the difference between There’s Something About Mary and Hall Pass
All this is made infinitely worse by it being the Efron performance immediately following his outstanding turn in last year’s The Iron Claw, a prestige project that saw the otherwise-solid actor reach unforeseen dramatic heights. Not even he can support the movie-stealing work of Cena, an up-for-anything performer who grows as an actor every time he appears on screen. Yet despite his best efforts, the Academy Awards will go down as the funniest thing Cena appears in this month. Somehow, more work went into crafting a gag to accompany the presentation for achievement in Costume Design than into a new feature film from an Oscar winner. If only that was as much of a sham as this.

Grade: D

Scarlett Johansson: The Bombshell of Body Dysmorphia

Scarlett Johansson has always been an unreliable narrator of sexuality and femininity in its primitive form. The blonde bombshell of the ’50s and ’60s reincarnated, her breasts and her voluptuous figure, her features that combine sultry coyness and childlike girth have made her a dream girl of the late ‘90s and early ‘00s. The actress has admitted lately that this wasn’t the image she wanted to be seen through as an actress, that she was groomed into the blonde bombshell/pretty baby archetype in her earlier acting years. Scarlett defied that, however, through her later career choices, where she became more comfortable in her skin to the extent of shedding it all off.

How Johansson Inverted Heteronormative Sexuality

There are two films in which Scarlett plays on the “Scarlett” persona with a mischievous in-your-face rebellion twist: Under the Skin and Ghost in the Shell. Although the latter might have brought criticism for casting choices due to whitewashing, it was -on her part- a brave choice and a bold move to deconstruct her celebrity image.

When Scarlett first appears on screen in Ghost of the Shell she is stripping. Everybody anticipates. It’s Scarlett Johansson on the big screen getting naked with flawless skin and lips that have always been marketed as the ultimate cis hetero man’s (and lesbian’s) dream. Scarlett never fails to drag on hungry onlookers, perverse spectators from behind their laptop screens.

But something else is revealed. Scarlett’s female body is sexless without all the definite features that cause a female to be -arguably- female: no nipples, clitoris, or vulva. It’s a sewn female body without all the openings, but it’s still there to ponder with all its sexual/sexless energy. It’s a female mannequin like the ones found in horror movies such as Maniac and Lights Out, a sea of genitalia-less female figures displayed and not exposed. This defines Scarlett’s rendition of Motoko or Major Mira Killian, the first full-body cyborg. A human whose brain has been implanted in another body, her sense of abduction is a constant reminder that her presence is in a body where she doesn’t belong. A reminiscence on body dysphoria or a hijacking of sorts translates much that many people might not be able to express in words.

In multiple scenes of the movie, Scarlett is seen naked, but it’s a form of cocooned nudity, a bare body imprisoned in the confines of gender aesthetics. She is still Scarlett, still described in one of the video titles on YouTube “Being Thirsted Over by Men”. But she redefines what it means to be a woman, and a past sex symbol for all that matters, having all the metrics of the penultimate sexy Hollywood blonde. Scarlett doesn’t dispose of her attractive features for the sake of a role. She’s not Charlize Theron shaving her brows or Nicole Kidman donning a prosthetic nose, but she’s retaining her cool features, cat-like eyes, and infamous pout, without a body underneath to complete the wet dream.

In Ghost in the Shell, Scarlett plays a character with a gender identity crisis, coming to terms with her body and existence. She questions the link between biological sex and actual gender with her subtle treading on gender lines, being a fully-developed female and refusing to succumb to the gender plethora of femininity. Major Mira Killian is not just a cybernetically modified human but a lost soul, a creature that hovers on the borders of feminine and female, not fully conforming to either.

The idea of owning a body, gendered but non-gendered, becoming but also unbecoming, working the way through gender discovery and dysphoria, is the core of the original Ghost in the Shell animated movie. Aside from the A.I. anxieties and the futuristic doom, we are attached to Motoko’s journey across humanity and bodies, identifying with her quest to discover her true self and those around her, in the process she touches on different themes and pathways that make her distinct, that is her corporal journey as she comes to terms with her bodily restrictions and capabilities.

Body Discomfort, Dysmorphia, and Gender Identity Crisis

In Under the Skin, Scarlett is a female. She just exists with a skin that she puts on to become more familiar with the planet she plans to invade. She’s not a woman but a female entity that doesn’t conform to presumed ideals of sexualizing that gendered being. The alien is incapable of having sex and is almost punished for that by being forced into it. The alien becomes an embodiment of an agender dream. It is a female on the border of gendered expression, without femininity, but also defined as such.

It’s easy to dismiss someone’s identification or lack of their body. It’s a question that has plagued my mind for years. What is a body? What is a male or female body? My body scared and intrigued me in how it differed from other members of the same gender that I was supposed to belong to. When I noticed the quirks and mismatching details, I realized that body dysphoria is not that foreign.

The idea of an imperfect female body begins at a very young age for some girls, and it’s also something that some women struggle with as they grow up. However, the idea of a “weird” female body is something else. There’s always something wrong with this woman: too much hair, dark armpits on fair skin, a mustache that needs constant waxing or painful laser sessions to remove, a weird-looking boob, a vagina buried underneath bushes of coarse hair, a strange-looking face; blemishes, scars, pigmentation, freckles, too many freckles, etc. As someone who has always felt like an alien in their own body, suffering the scrutiny of female peers who might or might not have criticized or pointed out an eccentricity, it was refreshing to watch Scarlett Johansson reject that embodiment of feminine perfection.

What is Under Scarlett’s Skin?

In Under the Skin, Scarlett sheds the skin of a sexy female luring people. She harbors on the fringes of the world, wearing a fur coat that creates an allegory to prominent male figures in other cinematic masterpieces -The Driver in Nicholas Winding Refn’s Drive– but doesn’t provide proof of consent to being male or female. Scarlett plays an alien, preying on unsuspecting men and feeding them to the void, where matter dissolves and shrinks. People are merely energy sources for a more considerable creation. Scarlett’s creature is female underneath, but the escalation to the revelation of the true self also brings up how gender is a barrier in people’s perceptions of them and how universal expectations of them hinder their emotional, physical, and actual growth in an accepting world. Scarlett again plays on the fetishized version of her. She is nude without a sexual undertone. She sheds the skin that has usurped her all of her life, to reveal the truth, a female but in a version that heteronormativity would never understand.

What does it take to be a woman? And how does one accomplish so? The freak reaction of the sexual predator throws shade at the culture of objectifying women, like Scarlett, or setting definitions for femininity and gendered existence where a woman would not feel safe to become who she chooses to become. And in the scary scene at the end, Scarlett’s reality is burned. The creature is burned alive and it’s as if people are burning the mere thought of her existence. But in reality, Scarlett is burning that skin, her sexualized younger self is given the final treatment, buried deep underneath the new woman who exists as beautiful, sexy, or even quirky and funny as she chooses to be, but further from the old self than one could expect. To depict gender dysphoria using her old, very archaic, and normative self as a backdrop to a shifting world in terms of gender and sexuality is not only an act of liberation but a rebellion against the ideal femininity trope which could be a deicide in progress.

Movie Review: ‘Kung Fu Panda 4’ is Pure Retread


Directors: Mike Mitchell, Stephanie Stine
Writer: Jonathan Aibel, Glenn Berge, Darren Lemke
Stars: Jack Black, Awkwafina, Viola Davis

Synopsis: After Po is tapped to become the Spiritual Leader of the Valley of Peace, he needs to find and train a new Dragon Warrior, while a wicked sorceress plans to re-summon all the master villains whom Po has vanquished to the spirit realm.


After watching Kung Fu Panda 4, I have come to one inevitable conclusion—it’s time to put this panda to sleep. The original Kung Fu Panda was fun, but overrated. I’ll admit, the delightful sight of a chubby panda becoming a ninja warrior gave everyone that warm and fuzzy feeling of doing endless panda rolls down a hill full of delightful glee. This phenomenon then spawned three needless sequels like DreamWorks’ goofy cousin, whom you see once every couple of years during the holidays.

The fourth installment goes through the motions, repackaging ideas, themes, and jokes. Besides a few examples of genuine, delightful panda-paw banter between star Jack Black and Hollywood icon Dustin Hoffman, Kung Fu Panda 4 is a pale comparison, even for this franchise’s standards. To make matters worse, the series is still looking for that emotional connection between the filmmakers and the audience to reward fans for their investment.

The story starts when Po (Jack Black), a lovable big-boned panda, is told he must select a trainee for a new “Dragon Warrior” by Master Shifu (Dustin Hoffman), a wise red panda who gives you those Yoda vibes. In some of the movie’s best scenes, Po continues to choose himself to continue to be the legendary protector of Shifu’s amusing frustration. Black and Hoffman have some delightful chemistry with that panda-paw-banter we mentioned above.

Po then arrests a “quillarious” Corsac Fox, Zhen (Awkwafina), who is in their kingdom’s jail for mischievously trying to steal the Valley’s ancient weaponry. While talking to Zhen, he discovers that Tai Lung (Viola Davis) has returned as a Chameleon who is shape-shifting into an animal of her choosing. In order to put off the major change in Po’s life, he tells Shifu he is going to take Zhen on a mission to stop the impending ominous force that threatens everyone’s way of life. 

Kung Fu Panda 4 has Mike Mitchell at the helm for the latest installment. If that name sounds familiar, you are one of the few proud fans of Rob Schneider comedies. Mitchell’s first film was the infamous 1999 comedy Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo. He has remade himself in animation, directing Shrek Forever After, Trolls, and The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part, all of which have been well-received.

The issue is that, while the film is marginally better than the first two sequels, the script has too many hands-on retooling the script. Five writers have been credited with the final product, with Jonathan Aibel and Glenn Berger returning to write the latest entry with the help of Darren Lemke. While the script does pay homage to the original, the effort to have a stand-alone story ultimately falls flat because it’s recycled material from the former villain and adds nothing new to popular films. That includes Po’s worried fathers, disappointing physical humor, and visual gags.

Since this is a visual medium, animation can be beautiful and, in certain moments, breathtaking. The movie’s beginning has a wondrous color palette with stunning texture, especially in scenes involving Black’s Po and Hoffman’s Shifu walking through The Valley of Peace. Yet, these visual pleasures become inconsistent when the script moves the characters to Juniper City, and the cinematography choices become humdrum.

And that’s a shame because the Kung Fu Panda franchise has become the Pixar version of Cars. This low-quality animated family film experience serves only as a cash cow for the studio. At the very least, the original deserves a better effort to right the ship of this ever-sinking series before they develop too much ill will with their fanbase. Of course, with streaming potential, it’s no longer about quality but keeping up with new content. 

Kung Fu Panda 4 is not worth watching because it borrows too many elements from previous films (and others in the DreamWorks filmography) that stunt any potential creativity to be a proper standalone entry in the franchise. 

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘Through the Night’ is a Poignant Exploration of Trauma


Director: Delphine Girard
Writer: Delphine Girard
Stars: Selma Alaoui, Veerle Baetens, Anne Dorval

Synopsis: One night, a woman in danger calls the police. Anna takes the call. A man is arrested. Weeks pass, justice is looking for evidence, and Aly, Anna and Dary face the echoes of that night that they can’t manage to leave behind.


Delphine Girard’s short film, A Sister, vehemently shook me to my core the first time I saw it in my screenwriting class, with the filmmaker in attendance, a year before the film ultimately got nominated for an Oscar. The script was airtight and masterfully built its tension through Aly’s (Selma Alaoui) exchanges with a police dispatcher (Veerle Baetens), pretending to talk with her sister over the phone, as her abuser, Dary (Guillaume Duhesme), holds her hostage in his car and drives to an undisclosed location.  

The context behind their relationship is missing, but everyone understands her pain as she is in desperate need of help before something far worse happens. When Dary is ultimately arrested, the film ends. This abrupt closure leaves the impression to the audience that justice has been served and that everything will go in Aly’s favor once Dary is put behind bars. Of course, the current justice system makes it very difficult for victims of sexual assault to see justice. If it does happen, it usually takes years, and it isn’t as clear-cut as other legal cases. 

In her feature-length expansion of A Sister in Through the Night (Quitter la nuit), Girard explores what happens after the events of the short film (after recreating it for the opening scene), as Aly files a complaint for rape and false imprisonment in the wake of Dary’s arrest. At first, she’s interrogated by the police, who believe her recollection of events as true, while Dary vehemently denies any wrongdoing. As legal procedures begin, he moves back with his mother (Anne Dorval), who Dary convinces there is nothing to worry about, as the exchange between him and Aly was consensual. 

Meanwhile, Aly has difficulty grappling with her assault, crying alone in her apartment as her daughter helplessly watches, and the police investigation takes (a lot of) time. The dispatcher, Anna, is also having difficulty moving on from the call, as Aly’s situation wasn’t a simple life-or-death phone call. She had to use codified language to get help, not to raise suspicions from Dary. It takes great skill to catch what Aly was saying to “her sister” on the phone, as most dispatchers would have likely hung up the phone, which is part of why Anna can’t bring herself to continue her work as normal. 

These moments of intense contemplation are the bulk of Through the Night’s suffocating first half as you watch these three individuals attempt to pretend their lives are normal after an event slowly consumes them. One of them won’t admit guilt, but his mind keeps replaying the night through fragments as if it doesn’t want to believe that he did commit rape, while Aly tries to recover from Dary’s psychological and physical abuse. 

Because of its release, the film will likely be compared to Molly Manning Walker’s How to Have Sex, which also dealt with a protagonist who grappled with her assault. While both movies focus on  similar themes, and Walker’s film is vastly superior from a visual perspective, Girard’s Through the Night is equally as effective, if not more, through careful screenwriting and editorial choices that elevate the character drama beyond surface-level observations on the characters picking up the pieces. 

Scenes where characters recollect events to the police are long but necessary in our understanding of the two protagonists. Alaoui gives a magisterial turn as Aly, whose petrified eyes will stick with me for a long time. It’s not so much emptiness as it is torment, attempting to recover from a harrowing, traumatizing event as life goes on with her child and family. The scene that perfectly represents her anguish happens a bit later in the film, in which she attempts to tell her ex-husband, Pierre (Gringe), what happened but can’t bring herself to do so. The longing in her facial expressions are clear, and the silences in between Pierre’s questions speak so much louder than her own words. 

When the movie eventually cuts to two years later, when the trial will take place, many may also compare it with Justine Triet’s Anatomy of a Fall, where the prosecution team attempts to twist the phone recording between Aly and Dary during the trial. However, there’s no ambiguity here: the rape happened, and Dary physically assaulted Aly during the phone call when he suspected something. One film leaves the door open for multiple points of interpretation, while the other directly shows how the justice system never favors its victims, even when the crime itself is clear and the police believe them. 

When Girard ultimately shows the rape and directly cuts to Dary sitting in his car as his mind fully recollects what happened two years ago while his mother stares at her son point blank, the emotional impact is immensely upsetting. Dary lied not only to the police and judge to save face but also to his own mother  – it gets even worse when he tells her he did it without hesitation. It takes an expert like Dorval to react the way she did and make us feel for a loving, caring mother who took her son’s side, thinking he was innocent, only to realize that he is just as cruel, if not worse than Dary’s father (whose innate penchant for violence likely comes from him, though Girard doesn’t directly state to it). With it, she gives her greatest-ever dramatic performance, a layered and emotionally charged turn where her quiet composure is more effective at conveying raw feelings than the relationship she holds with her son. 

However, the next scene, in which Anna reveals herself to Aly, is when the emotional buildup of the film fully takes form. With one line, she describes the injustice she will likely face as Dary will live with the guilt he will literally and figuratively carry for the rest of his life. The emotional resonance is devastating and far more poignant than How to Have Sex’s ending, which teased a hopeful future incompletely. After Aly eventually confronts Dary, her life slowly begins to rebuild itself in a more hopeful direction. It’ll take time, but it will happen as the rest of the story belongs to her. 

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Damsel’ is in Deep Distress


Director: Juan Carlos Fresnadillo
Writer: Dan Mazeau
Stars: Millie Bobby Brown, Ray Winstone, Angela Bassett

Synopsis: A dutiful damsel agrees to marry a handsome prince, only to find the royal family has recruited her as a sacrifice to repay an ancient debt.


Netflix’s Damsel is an example of a rite of passage for rising talent. It used to be that a young female star would take the reins of a romantic comedy to cement their status as a Hollywood starlet. Soon, when the rom-rom left the public eye like the radio star, the young-adult romantic drama became the next big thing. While the YA film may never go away, youthful actors have yet to set their sights on a new kind of launching platform.

That would be the costume dark fantasy action film, proving that girls can be just as kick-ass as the rest. The Kissing Booth’s Joey King did one for Hulu in the summer of 2022 called The Princess, a fairly entertaining film that proved King could hold her own. Now, Stranger Things megastar Millie Bobby Brown has her John McClane moment as a young woman who finds herself as the damsel in distress who only needs to rely on herself. The result is that Brown holds her own in some gnarly action sequences, but the rest of the film fails to live up to its potential as a fun action diversion.

Brown stars as Eloise, the daughter of a king (Ray Winstone) who oversees a dying kingdom in the farthest point north. His people are poor, without adequate shelter and food. Eloise’s mother died many years ago, and her father married Lady Bayford (Angela Bassett), whose bloodline is anything but royal, being the daughter of a rope maker. The noblewoman has a younger sister, Floria (The Peripheral’s Brooke Carter), whom Eloise schools on leadership qualities.

Soon, the King is approached by a wealthy royal family with more gold than Eloise has ever seen. They are looking for a young lady to marry Prince Henry (Nick Robinson), the son of Queen Isabelle (Robin Wright). From the trailer, you know what happens next. They marry and soon whisk Eloise away to an ancient ceremony on the cliffs of the highest point of the kingdom. There, the Queen takes a dagger and draws blood from both happy couples’ hands so his royal blood can mix with hers. 

Oh, and then Henry tosses Eloise over a bridge as a ritual sacrifice.

Yeah, that took a turn. Damsel was directed by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo (28 Weeks Later) and written by Dan Mazeau (Fast X), who falls into the trap of what I call making a video game script. As soon as Brown’s Eloise is tossed off that bridge, her mission is to escape the caves where she was sacrificed to be killed by a fire-breathing dragon. The scenes are written and filmed in a way remarkably similar to narrative-driven gameplay on your Playstation or Xbox. 

For instance, each time the titular character escapes, she finds writing on the wall that provides her with clues, warnings, and directions on how to escape. As soon as you get the feel of it, this takes away much of the suspense because you know what will happen as quickly as they start. You even have Eloise running into a few potential saviors who give her just enough information on the “mystery” of why she was betrayed, which was evident, and more escape instructions.

These special effects drenched pictures are reasonably good for a UHD television, producing a certain amount of addictive energy. However, almost all the characters are underwritten, from the villains to the main character. Again, all the departments of a video game are involved. Wright fares reasonably well, even though she is rather a one-note villain. Winstone hams it up as much as he can with nothing to do. Bassett’s only job is to act concerned, and she is over-the-top helpless, which is strange to watch from an actress known for portraying such strong female characters. Then you have Nick Robinson, who is so good in Love, Simon has nothing to do but argue with his mother, without any backbone to make the audience care.

Damsel is built for Millie Bobby Brown, who showcases her ability to helm a special effects-laden film, yet the production forgets to build around the star. Even the dragon (voiced by Shohreh Aghdashloo) has no emotion and feels like you are listening to AI-generated dialogue and responses that do not resonate with the viewer. Neither does the subtext of feminist empowerment themes, which never go beyond the shallow narrative, which plays more like a marketing ploy to mirror today’s socially conscious times than have anything significant to say about the matter.

While Damsel will undoubtedly entertain fans of Brown and those who like their films consumed on autopilot, Damsel fails to generate enough interest to justify your most valuable asset—your time.

Grade: D+

Movie Review: ‘The Book of Solutions’ is Unfiltered Gondry


Director: Michel Gondry
Writer: Michel Gondry
Stars: Pierre Niney, Blanche Gardin, Françoise Lebrun

Synopsis: Follows a man, a director who tries to vanquish his demons, which are oppressing his creativity.


Ever wanted to spend 102 minutes living inside Michel Gondry’s unfiltered mind? No? Then immediately avoid The Book of Solutions. If your answer is even a tentative yes, going through a fictionalized version of the director’s post Mood Indigo breakdown is still a lot to take in. If you are on the (fantastically inspired inventor) Gondry train already, The Book of Solutions is high-wire absurdity, and you’ll enjoy the constantly derailing ride.

Marc Becker (Pierre Niney) is a director presenting his unfinished film to his financiers. His working partner is doing what he can to run interference between Marc’s increasingly nebulous film (which will come together in the yet to be filmed fifth act) and the financiers who just want to take what there is and cut it into “something.” Marc refuses to relinquish his film and enacts an immediate heist along with his editor, Charlotte (Blanche Gardin) and producer Sylvia (Frankie Wallach) with some quick moves by the intern Gabrielle (Camilla Rutherford) to take all the hard drives to his Aunt’s house where they will finish the film in secret.

Marc is clearly having an extended nervous breakdown. His loving Aunt Denise (Françoise Lebrun and partially based on Gondry’s own aunt Suzette) takes in Marc and his team and patiently deals with his personality peccadilloes which have been exacerbated by his decision to suddenly cease taking his psychiatric medication. Marc is off the charts; his internal narration is almost consistently at odds with that is happening on screen. He’s selfish, temperamental, paranoid, anxious, and an egomaniac. He’s also avoiding actually finishing or even looking at the film. 

For all the farcicality, and there is more than most films could deal with even Gondry’s own, there is the recognition that any artist who wants control of whatever they are making has to fight not only the material roadblocks of the process, but also the creative roadblocks. What if the film just isn’t any good? What if the film is genius but can only be so if there is proper collaboration? What if there are too many ideas or worse, too few? You can’t just make something and assume people will show up — a metaphor Gondry uses with Marc’s animated film about a fox attempting to open a hair salon.

Every possible genre gets squeezed in somewhere. Imagined gangster film, a smidgen of science fiction, obviously some slapstick humor, a will they/won’t they romance, paranoid imaginings, some odd psychosexual stuff, angry office equipment, and whatever is happening in Marc’s seemingly never to be completed magnum opus, ‘Anyone, Everyone.’ Marc also somehow ends up as a real estate owner, the interim mayor of the town in the Cévennes where he grew up with his much beloved aunt. And a hairdresser for a day. Because of course he does.

There is method in Gondry’s madness. Through Niney’s hyper-energetic performance we see an astounding set piece in which he conducts an orchestra with no score — they have to play based solely on his body movements. His “Book of Solutions” a book of rules he keeps making and breaking to facilitate the perfect piece of art does contain some wisdom — although Marc can barely tie his own shoelaces. He spends two days observing a bug. Days making an editing suite for Charlotte which is devised from an old truck. He has Denise star in her own comedy cooking show. Eventually he even gets Sting to play on the soundtrack to the film (Marc tells Sting how to play and gets away with it). He observes the ‘second gear’ rule while driving just to annoy people. He constantly wakes Sylvia up with new and urgent requests. He takes a dislike to one of the crew, Carlos (Mourad Boudaoud) for coughing too often. He makes pinhole cameras out of leaves, cuts down tree branches which he happens to be sitting on… he is unbearable but endlessly charming too.

Once Marc moves back to Paris after the film is somewhat abandoned (but rescued by Charlotte and Sylvia) he becomes even worse than he was in the Cévennes. The depression which follows the creative mania sets in and he quietly rejects everyone who reaches out to him, including Denise. Yet he finds a kindred spirit in his dream girl Gabrielle (with whom he had a fantastical relationship with earlier in the film). Can two oddballs who recognize each other be the solution? Is his no longer completely autonomous ‘Anyone, Everyone’ a film he will finally watch?

Explaining the plot of The Book of Solutions is akin to using skywriting in a foreign language on a cloudy day. You might see part of it, but just as you think you’ve got a handle on it, it vanishes. The themes are key. Marc’s love for Denise (a stand in for Gondry’s own aunt, Suzette) without whom he would not have his most important audience. Overcompensation because artistic vision has been “vandalized” before. The terror of facing the work which has been done. And recognition that one can be a “genius” and a “arsehole director” simultaneously and you can only get away with it for as long as you are giving something to the world. Marc’s real gift has nothing to do with the movie. One of the gifts he contemplates proffering is, shall we say, not something anyone wants.

Michel Gondry made in conjunction with Charlie Kaufman a film so beloved that it propelled him to a kind of fame he could never again live up to. Despite being involved with dozens of smaller projects, music videos, animations, television series — Gondry is always The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind guy. The Book of Solutions finds Gondry reflecting on his own career — parts are so self-referential and metatextual they require a non-fictional Gondry Bible.

Michel Gondry has thrown everything at the wall and seemingly randomly lets the audience decide what sticks — which is the most apt way of describing a career which includes the Seth Rogen starring The Green Hornet next to The Science of Sleep. Or The We and the I next to Human Nature. Gondry after all these years is still figuring out his formula, and The Book of Solutions might just be the most fun you will have trying to unlock his puzzle box mind.

Grade: B-

Interview: Director of ‘Silver Haze’ Sacha Polak

Nadine Whitney: Silver Haze is your second collaboration with Vicky Knight after Dirty God your English language debut. It was something you were working on for a long time before you met Vicky. For her it was an essential part of healing from trauma and being perceived as monstrous. The film also helped to usher in significant change in the British Film Industry and created a long overdue discussion of how people with scars, disabilities, and noticeable facial differences are used in media. Silver Haze again stars Vicky. In this film you are partially drawing on her own life experience with the fire which caused her burns as a child. You also reference her work in healthcare and acknowledge her queerness. The film is filled with damaged and damaging people. Yet it also has a core sensibility of forgiveness and moving on from the thing you believe defined you. Can you tell me a little about the process of working with Vicky and how you collaborated with her to speak a kind of truth about her life?

Sacha Polak: This film was written for her and loosely based on her own life stories. After Dirty God, Vicky and I traveled all over the world to promote the film. I was so touched in the way Vicky spoke to people telling them her life story and comforting them. We had a lot of tears in the audience and Vicky was so powerful. This was one of the reasons why I wanted to make another film with her. 

After I wrote the script we improvised around the scenes. For me it was important that we have lots of time to find honest performances but also playfulness and humor. 

In the there is also a lot of anger and people hurt each other, it’s a harsh world. I hope the characters have both sides though. Franky’s mother Jenn is traumatized and there is choice there between moving on or being stuck in the past. Franky in the end chooses to move on. 

NW: Through Florence, Franky manages to escape not only the heteronormativity and violence of her East End community but meets Alice and Jack in Southend which seems like a magical place for her. For a while Franky is bewitched by Florence and the kindness Alice shows her. For the first time in years someone is taking care of her instead of her carrying the weight of others. How did you fashion the golden moments with Florence, Alice, and Jack?

SP: Franky falls in love with Florence. Although it is her first romance it is overshadowed by her breaking up with her family. She comes to Southend, a place full of kindness. Something she is not used to at all. With Angela I spoke a lot about making Alice human, not an angel. But somebody who does take care of Franky who was taking care of everyone in her work, her family and Florence. I spoke a lot about how it feels like to fall in love for the first time with both Esmé and Vicky. 

NW: Without spoiling too much of the film, Florence is more than mercurial. She’s mentally ill. She thinks herself an evil person. Yet Florence can no more control her actions than Jack can control his neurodivergence. Nor Alice stop the cancer which is killing her. You give Florence a space of grace despite her behaviour and eventual turn on Franky. How important was it to you to show that Florence despite her cruelty, is also living with internal scars which she can’t keep hidden?

SP: Silver Haze is a love story, and it deals with trauma. In the beginning of the film Florence doesn’t want to live anymore. She has already given up. Franky is a fighter; she solves everything with fighting. This is why their relationship can’t work. Florence does love Franky but doesn’t love herself. 

NW: Silver Haze is about the importance of letting go of rage. Franky’s mother, Jenn can’t let go of the fire because it wasn’t even so much the moment when she almost lost a child, it was the moment she felt betrayed by her husband and best friend. Leah feels a quiet guilt because she was supposed to be in the pub that night. Franky needs to know how it happened because she was a small child at the time and no one’s stories align.

In letting go of her rage, especially against the people she was told consistently were responsible, she has a chance to heal. She also has the opportunity to extend her kindness to people who deserve it. Her found family, and Leah who has somehow found herself in an unusual manner. Can you tell me a little about building the process of self liberation for Franky and Leah?

SP: Franky and Leah have been taught to constantly fight. I believe that rage is not a way to overcome trauma. Franky has a chance to heal and finds love and warmth in Alice and Jack even though she loses Florence in the process. Finding a family even though it’s not blood resonates with me since both my parents have passed away. 

NW: Your work has been compared to Ken Loach and early Andrea Arnold. It is social realism, yet it is never exploiting the people it is depicting. How do you create the balance between realism, authenticity, and avoiding poverty cliches?

SP: It was very important that this film would never be “poverty porn” as they call it. That it would be a film full of light and love and humor. Because this is how I see Vicky and her family. 

NW: Your cast is excellent. Vicky was not a professional actor before she met you. Leah, played by Charlotte Knight is Vicky’s real-life sister. Archie Brigden as Jack was not a professional actor. The most experienced cast members you have on the film are Angela Bruce and Esmé Creed-Miles who grew up around the film industry. How do you collaborate with emerging talents. How much of the script do you give to them to improvise?

Thank you. It was helpful that I knew Vicky and Charlotte before from working with Vicky on Dirty God. So, Charlotte had seen the process with her elder sister. We spoke about what this film would be about. Which scenes were important to me to keep as written and what would be the scenes to play around with. We shot a lot in Dagenham where they both lived. Esme I also knew from the tv show Hanna I directed. Vicky and Esme immediately hit it off. For me it is important that the actors feel safe, and they trust me and each other. That there is space to try things. Working with Archie was especially tricky for me because he is autistic, and I found out that I need to be very precise in how I direct him. It was confronting for me to find out how sloppy I am with words. Also, he found it important that the character of Jack would not be a victim and would be portrayed in a way that would be respectful to people with autism.

From Poverty Row To Big Player: The First Years Of Columbia Pictures

2024 marks the centennial of Columbia Pictures, the studio behind the Spider-Man franchise, Ghostbusters, The Bridge On The River Kwai, On The Waterfront, The Social Network, and Taxi Driver; among many other films and franchises. Like the rest of the major studios that have been around since the silent era, Columbia had its humble beginnings, but they were looking up at the big names for a while and not a serious threat. Louis B. Meyer referred to Columbia as Siberia to send actors to when being leased to the studio. However, three people, especially the work of one controversial man, would lead Columbia to the top of Hollywood’s elite and stay there while others would fall. 

Poverty Row Startups 

Columbia’s origins go back to 1918 when brothers Harry and Jack Cohn signed, with Joe Brandt, a deal to start their own studio, the Cohn-Brandt-Cohn (CBC) Film Sales Corporation. The three were part of Independent Moving Studios under Carl Laemmele, who would later turn it into Universal Pictures. With just $5000 in 2022 money ($250 in 1918) as capital, Brandt was the president of CBC, sales, marketing; distribution was run by Jack Cohn in New York City, while Harry Cohn ran production in California where all the studios were moving to. They would move entirely to Hollywood in 1922, renting a location on a street nicknamed “Poverty Row” because of the other B-studios located there.

Oddly, the studio would not release their first movie until 1922 with the melodrama More To Be Pitied Than Scorned. It was a success and permitted them to produce other films, leading the major studios to joke that CBC stood for “Corned Beef and Cabbage.” Now in the film exchange business, the company was reorganized and renamed Columbia Pictures Corporation after the image of the woman with the same name who is described as the personification of America. The studio would move out of Poverty Row and be part of the Little Three with Universal and United Artists, a mid-major tier behind the big names: Paramount, Warner Brothers, 20th Century Fox, Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM), and Radio-Keith-Orpheum, or RKO (the only one which is now completely defunct). 

Their Golden Ticket

Columbia did not control movie theaters and didn’t have the same resources as the Big Five studios did to expand their influence. One of the leaders of their push for bigger recognition came from a director who had worked with Harry Cohn a decade earlier. Frank Capra had done multiple jobs under Cohn before transitioning to full-time director at rival First National Studios before creative differences caused him to leave and join the upstart Columbia. His hiring came when sound began in motion pictures and Capra, who had an engineering background, was a full supporter of this innovation. Capra convinced Columbia to invest completely while the other studios were reluctant to transition because they saw “talkies’ ‘ as a fad.

His first film for Columbia with sound was 1928’s Submarine, followed by 1929’s The Younger Generation. Harry Cohn called this period onward until 1939 the start of Columbia’s string of high quality films, as well as being consistently profitable at the box office. The film that put Capra over the top, as well as Columbia, would be the screwball comedy It Happened One Night. It would be the first film to win the Big Five Oscars – Picture, Director, Lead Actor (Clark Gable), Lead Actress (Claudette Colbert), and Screenplay. Capra’s following films for the studio would also be critically acclaimed, including Mr. Deeds Goes To Town, You Can’t Take It With You, and Mr. Smith Goes To Washington.  

Meanwhile, the Cohn brothers had a volatile relationship in managing the studio, so much that Joe Brandt chose to retire from the movie industry and sold his shares to Harry, who became President of Columbia and would be until his death in 1958. Harry would cement his status with a very autocratic style, maintaining his position as production manager with input in every part of every production. It is also known that Harry had organized crime connections to keep their signed actors in line, hired other family members in major posts within the studio, and was notorious for his “casting couch” methods with new female actresses. Yet, Cohn struggled those first years to get rid of the stigma of being a low-tier studio as they could not afford to keep their stars, so they went to other studios to lease actors to star in their pictures. 

No Longer In Poverty

When It Happened One Night swept the 1934 Oscars, Columbia gained the right to hold major studio status and Cohn got to rub shoulders with other movie moguls. Theaters that rejected signing Columbia releases now openly showed their films; the Paramount decree of 1948 ended studio ownership of movie theaters and helped Columbia be on complete equal footing with other studios. The commercial success of Capra’s films allowed them to sign stars for longer term, including Jean Arthur, Cary Grant, Rita Hayworth, and The Three Stooges. Even then, Harry Cohn carefully allocated budgets and recycled set pieces to keep overall costs down and avoid financial losses compared to other studios.

Their most recognized logo, Columbia herself standing on a pedestal lifting a torch, was first shown in 1936 and would change twice, first in 1976, and then in 1993 which is how it remains today. By 1950, the studio had toppled RKO as being part of the Big Five, and with the establishment of Screen Gems for television production, Columbia cemented their place permanently. Many names before the invention of sound fell because they did not adapt to it and Columbia played smart with their finances to prevent the pitfalls of going under. It is this foundation that the studio has worked on to be relevant and successful 100 years later. 

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Movie Review: ‘Lovely, Dark, and Deep’ is a Horrifying Forest of Terrors


Director: Teresa Sutherland
Writer: Teresa Sutherland
Stars: Georgina Campbell, Nick Blood, Wai Ching Ho

Synopsis: Lennon, a new back-country ranger, travels alone through the dangerous wilderness, hoping to uncover the origins of a tragedy that has haunted her since she was a child.


The first mistake Robert Frost made when he approached the infamous “two roads diverged in a yellow wood” was entering the woods in the first place. Nothing good happens in the woods. Those who disagree are either not of this world or superior beings to us normies. John Muir is one of those people; the naturalist author, who created the National Parks System, wrote a great deal about the beauty of nature and its mysteries. He once wrote, “And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.”

That passage, which appears at the beginning of Teresa Sutherland’s directorial debut, Lovely, Dark, and Deep, is a common misquote — he actually wrote, “And into the forest I go, to lose myself and find my soul.” But the version Sutherland cites feels more fitting for a horror film these days, particularly one where the main character experiences most of their terror not just in the forest, but because of the forest. It might as well read, “And into the forest I go, to eventually die.”

Which isn’t quite how things unfold for Lennon (Barbarian’s Georgina Campbell), but just as well! We first meet our heroine, a newly-minted park ranger with a haunted past (Indie Horror Mad Libs, anyone?), as she drives to work in the dark, listening to a radio broadcast about missing persons, specifically those who have gone missing in the woods. Along the way, Lennon comes to a stop at the sight of a black deer in the middle of the road. It stares into her soul; she stares back. But her attentive gaze is interrupted by a screeching sound on the A.M. dial. She switches it off, exhales, and when she looks up, the deer is gone.

It’s a familiar opening sequence — a character, alone in a dark setting, is harshly disturbed by a frightening creature/object that doubles as a foreboding omen. Yet just because something is familiar doesn’t make it cheap. What follows may feel repetitive and safe at times, but this set piece lays the groundwork for a competent film about how we respond when old wounds reopen. 

Lovely, Dark, and Deep delivers beats you’ve seen before, but in distinctive ways. Deer, for instance, pop up in horror films all the time — they represent innocence and protection, often presenting themselves to others if you’ve been hurt and your heart needs tending, which makes the dead deer we see at the start of Jordan Peele’s Get Out all the more heartbreaking. But have you ever seen a deer with smoky, blackened fur? You’ve seen a deer in headlights before, but have you ever seen a character be more fearful of the deer than vice versa? 

In short, what follows is The Cabin in the Woods if the cabin was the woods, an imbalanced yet absorbing descent into madness and terror through the eyes of a tortured vessel. As has become a staple in the genre, the seeds of this terror were planted long ago: When Lennon was a child, her sister went missing in the woods, a loss she feels responsible for. Naturally, it’s what led her to becoming a park ranger: she who was once responsible for one person in the wilderness must now be responsible for all of its visitors. 

This sort of narrative decision does feel rather on the nose — no longer is it one’s fear that is the mind-killer in horror films, but one’s trauma — yet it doesn’t matter nearly as much as it otherwise might thanks to Campbell’s layered performance. The ascendant Scream Queen draws more out of her character than one imagines Lennon could have been in lesser hands. While Barbarian required Campbell to access terror on full-tilt, Lovely, Dark, and Deep sees her mining authentic hope out of a hopeless scenario. To instill even the slightest shred of optimism in an audience well aware that the backdrop to her terror is a vast, dangerous national park essentially defies the impossible. 

Not as impossible, yet still an impressive feat, is the ability to render real scares in broad daylight. And though Sutherland’s film does so with sharp orchestral strums and screams from those suffering, both common cues in the genre, it’s commendable that it even tries. Midsommar this is not, particularly because Lovely, Dark, and Deep does still spend a great deal of its time in the dark. Ari Aster’s second film did what no film had done before, drawing discomfort and dread out of increasingly bright landscapes littered with inviting bursts of color that made up its central Swedish cult’s design palette. 

But Lovely, Dark, and Deep still manages to create something fresh, tactfully keeping its reliance on recognizable, cult-adjacent themes that give a heftier weight to its chills to a reasonable minimum. What matters more to Sutherland is what we struggle to live with whether the lights are bright or have gone out completely, and how it impacts our mindset, for better or worse. In a horror film forest full of trauma-laden trees toppling silently, this is the rare sort that makes a sound.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘One Life’ is a Competent, By the Numbers Biopic


Director: James Hawes
Writers: Lucinda Coxon, Nick Drake, Barbara Winton
Stars: Anthony Hopkins, Lena Olin, Johnny Flynn

Synopsis: Sir Nicholas ‘Nicky’ Winton, a young London broker who, in the months leading up to World War II, rescued over 600 children from Nazi-occupied Czechoslovakia.


Sir Nicholas Winton was, for many years, one of the “unsung heroes” of World War Two. Dubbed the “British Schindler,” Winton and his associates managed to rescue 669 children who ended up in Prague after The Munich Agreement ceded Sudetenland to Hitler in 1938. Bohemia’s ethnic, political, and religious diversity made it a prime candidate for the Nazi first putsch. With a large amount of Jewish and Roma people inhabiting the area as well as Socialist intellectuals; the Third Reich used it as a testing ground before the invasion of Poland.

Director James Hawes takes from Barbara Winton’s biography of her father, Winton’s own scrapbooks and stories, and the now famous episodes of ‘That’s Life!’ aired in 1988 to build his by-the-numbers biopic. The aim is not so much to adequately explain the horror of the beginnings of the Holocaust; something most people should be more than familiar with, but to highlight how a few “ordinary people” decided to step up and do what they considered to be the right thing. Unbidden by any government, Nicholas Winton was an educated stockbroker from an immigrant family, who decided he must do whatever he could to assist those in need.

Hawes begins the film in 1987. Nicky Winton (Anthony Hopkins) is still tirelessly working collecting money for charitable causes. His wife, Grete (Lena Olin) is patient but bemused by Nicky’s drive to keep making a humanitarian difference. They are about to become grandparents and Grete just wants Nicky to start letting go of the past so he can embrace the future of new life joining the family.

Grete decides she will spend some time with their pregnant daughter Barbara (Ffion Jolly) and begs Nicky to start making space. There are boxes upon boxes in their Maidenhead shire home. Nicky reluctantly agrees to declutter; but there is a briefcase he can’t let go of. The briefcase filled with information about the Kindertransport scheme he was involved with from 1938 to 1939. Before Grete gets goes to spend time with Barbara, she says to Nicky, “Don’t let yourself get the way you get.”

The way Nicky “gets” is haunted that he failed to save as many children as he could. Hopkins plays Winton as somewhere between mournful, annoyed, uncommunicative, yet still pushing for people to know what happened. He doesn’t want the credit, but people should not forget. He’s haunted by the Holocaust. Nicky Winton is also the easy focus for the British Savior narrative, because he was born in England to Russian and German Jewish parents. His parents converted to Church of England and became prosperous. Nicky worked as a stockbroker, became a left-wing agnostic, and somehow represented all that is “right and proper” within Britain.

Hawes takes the audience back to 1938 and the Wintons’ (recently changed from Wertheim after having to deal with the xenophobia of World War One) well appointed Hampstead apartment. Babi Winton (Helena Bonham-Carter) is bemoaning the fact that young Nicky (Johnny Flynn) has decided he will go to Czechoslovakia despite the growing troubles there. It was supposed to be a skiing trip with his friend Martin Blake, but instead Nicholas volunteers to help a group of people trying to keep the Sudenten alive through a harsh winter and the incoming Nazi takeover of Prague and eventual border closures.

Winton meets up with Doreen Warriner (Romola Garai in serious no-nonsense mode), the somewhat impetuous but passionate Trevor Chadwick (Alex Sharp) and camp liaison Hana Hejdukova (Juliana Moska). Doreen’s operation, The British Committee for Refugees, from Czechoslovakia is running on donations and fumes. Doreen’s primary objective is to get political refugees and intellectuals out, but Winton insists that the children are the most vulnerable and must be prioritized.

Hawes directs Nicky in the freezing makeshift camps very well. He spends just enough time on the faces of the children to make his point — or particularly to inform the audience how Winton came to desperately want to protect the children. In reality, Winton was only in Prague for three weeks. But during that time the film posits he was the man who ensured the Prague Kindertransport happened. Meeting with a skeptical Rabbi (Samuel Finzi) who asks, “How will you ensure they maintain their heritage?” Winton’s answer is enough to convince him to advocate for the transport. The Rabbi warns Nicky, “Don’t start what you cannot finish.”

While Flynn gives an empathetic and adequate performance as the younger Winton, he is very much outclassed by Bonham-Carter as Babi Winton. It is Babi who uses the rhetoric of the “British people being morally upstanding” to guilt bureaucrats, bankers, Rotary Members, Ladies who Lunch, Church of England clergy, Sports clubs, and others to get involved. Babi’s “I am British, thank you very much,” attitude serves as one of the few acknowledgements of the still prevalent xenophobia in British society at the time. There are no Oswald Mosley types in the background (perhaps the film would be a little less cloying if there were). Hawes isn’t doing anything particularly complicated with the social attitude. Babi sees one letter which comes in with the donations asking, “Why are you bringing the dirty Jews here?” which she throws on the fire.

Lack of complication seems to be what the film is aiming for. The frantic race to get the children out of Prague doesn’t quite feel as urgent as it should because Hawes is more concerned with talking about the beginning of the Holocaust without showing the audience anything profoundly distressing. It is sad, and in hindsight tragic, but more melodramatic than filled with terror. What Hana, Doreen, and Trevor are doing is consistently interrupted by the older Nicky’s poring over pictures of the ones he lost and his extended guilt. 

One Life is designed to reach the endpoint which is the now famous BBC segments hosted by Esther Rantzen (Samantha Spiro). To get to where Anthony Hopkins starts weeping and the audience is filled with the children he helped place, including Vera Diamontova Gissing (Frantiska Polakova and Henrietta Garden) who he discussed skiing and swimming with when she was a child. Lady Milena Grenfell-Baines who is now a member of the aristocracy. Hanuš Šnábl who returned to Prague in 1945 but eventually permanently moved to Britain as a journalist.

Anthony Hopkins is, of course, giving an excellent performance in a film which is designed to elicit some audience sniffles when he cries, but, like Winton himself, doesn’t want to really discuss what happened after that last train didn’t make it. Hopkins’ Winton is the focus. “Nicky’s Children” and the bravery of the parents, children, and Doreen and Trevor serve as background.

“Save one life and you save them all,” is the maxim the elderly Martin Blake (Jonathan Pryce in what is essentially a cameo) reiterates to Nicky. Saving 669 lives was an extraordinary achievement, but it didn’t only belong to Winton, as he keeps telling people. It’s the tenacity of the younger Winton and the humility of the elder Winton around which Hawes builds the emotional core. 

One Life is a “feel good” Holocaust narrative — something which seems a tad manipulative. Of course, the world needs the “ordinary people” to step up in times of great injustice. But without Hopkins sincerely selling Nicky Winton, One Life is nothing much beyond a reverse engineering of the ‘That’s Life!’ segments. Competent but not excellent filmmaking.

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Bring Him To Me’ Drifts in Circles


Director: Luke Sparke
Writer: Tom Evans
Stars: Barry Pepper, Jamie Costa, Sam Neill

Synopsis: Under orders from a ruthless crime boss, a getaway driver must battle his conscience and drive an unsuspecting crew member to an ambush execution. There is a long drive ahead.


The Australian crime thriller Bring Him To Me is one of those frustrating film experiences because it has all the makings of a good genre film. For one, Barry Pepper is an underrated actor who can bring enough grit and complexity to any role to make it interesting. The premise takes the viewer on a mystery that’s a long and winding road. However, the action scenes are stagnant, and a handful of supporting performances range from weak to over-the-top, and that does not even mention the head-scratching plot points and character decisions.

Tom Evans’s script follows Pepper’s character, “Driver,” a shadowy mob figure always sitting in the car while running, waiting for his team to be their getaway. The film alternates between two narratives—one is in the present day. Driver gets a message to bring an associate in for a meeting; that character is known as “Passenger” (played by Jamie Costa), and Driver is immediately worried.

That’s because his boss, Veronica (Rachel Griffiths, doing her best Jackie Weaver impression), puts a premium on punctuality. He also finds it strange to call everyone in at the last minute. However, when Veronica goes over their previous score, it is light. The implication is that Passenger is the one behind the missing money, and Driver knows the end game if he delivers the young man to the murderous mobster. In fact, his overreactions to the most straightforward questions and roadblocks are questionable, which makes the screenplay rather obvious.

That’s where Bring Him To Me should thrive, but rather, it meanders with action sequences and plot points that fail to camouflage the central mystery. The main character is a contradictory one. If he doesn’t care about his criminal peer and knows the rules of the game, why is he so anxious about delivering him to his boss? Why would he be putting himself in danger over someone dumb enough to steal from a prominent member of the criminal underworld? And why does the Passenger seem oblivious and nonchalant during the trip?

Director Luke Sparke (Red Billabong) needs to address these issues adequately. Bring Him To Me feels like a short film with bloated filler to create a feature film. I would equate this to a clause where you take out the middle section, but it wouldn’t affect the beginning or end. In between, you have a few listless car chase scenes that occur for the primary purpose of killing time. That involves a second local mobster, Frank (Sam Neill), and his son. The scene is laughable, with them being notified and chasing down the duo in a short time frame when the script noted how far their destination was to begin with.

Frank believes anything his intended targets have to say as he holds them at gunpoint. This is just an excuse for Pepper and Costa’s characters to create an opening that would typically never be available to them. To that point, Griffith’s Veronica lets one of her henchmen, whom she knows is guilty, go, which leads to another eye-rolling action scene driving around a parking lot when they could have just been taken right then and there by a half dozen armed men. Not to mention, she let them take the money. Oh, and why is one of the men walking around with no injuries from gunshot wounds from the robbery days later?

All of this could be a bit of B-movie bliss, but instead, Bring Him To Me has higher aspirations it simply cannot reach. Costa is too lightweight an actor to play a character with the needed depth and complexity to accomplish those desired heights. The villains are so underwritten that it forces Griffiths and Neill to play their roles as exaggerated cartoon figures because they are rather one-note. The only person who comes away clean is Pepper, who keeps the movie mildly engaging because of his strong presence and emotional range.

If you have seen enough crime thrillers, Bring Him To Me is the film equivalent of a road trip that goes nowhere but ends up where it started. 

Grade: D

Movie Review: ‘Club Zero’ Devours its Members


Director: Jessica Hausner
Writers: Jessica Hausner, Géraldine Bajard
Stars: Mia Wasikowska, Sidse Babett Knudsen, Amir El-Masry

Synopsis: A teacher takes a job at an elite school and forms a strong bond with five students – a relationship that eventually takes a dangerous turn.


Jessica Hausner distrusts every institution dedicated to “caregiving, comfort, and devotion.” Her targets have ranged from the Catholic Church and faith healing in Lourdes, the devouring service industry in Hotel, charismatic poet-philosophers in Amour Fou, nature, pharmaceuticals, and motherhood in Little Joe. Her first feature, Lovely Rita, was a violently nihilistic coming-of-age story. Rita is abused by her Catholic School peers. She deals with religious fervor at home with her overly devout mother. After unsuccessfully trying to seduce an older man, she turns her attention to a just pubescent boy — the only person who makes her feel special. Conceptually, Lovely Rita is a Rosetta Stone to unlock Hausner’s cinema of mistrust and anxiety.

Club Zero has Hausner home in on the exclusive private school: “good parents,” “bad parents,” and the abnegation of responsibility they have for their own actions and children. The school is for gifted students — but often their gifts are nebulous. It is prestigious and prestige is a business. It is run by an immaculately groomed woman, Miss Dorset (Sidse Babett Knudsen) who is catering specifically to the rich parents of the “sensitive children” — the next generation who will inherit whatever is theirs by dent of cultural and class endorsement.

When wealthy parents decide that clean eating should be a course offered on the curriculum, they prime their discontented teens to be seduced into a cult run by the enigmatic Miss Novak (Mia Wasikowska). She seeks out her targets carefully. At first, she introduces them to the idea that conscious eating is a remedy for consumerist wastefulness, that it is a solution to environmental destruction. Conscious eating is a form of self control which provides mental clarity. Disciplining the body will enhance physical agility. Radiant beauty is paired with a body no longer filled with toxins. All negative energy will be expelled on a cellular level.

Miss Novak identifies each of their needs. Ragna (Florence Barker) is the child of liberal bohemians (Lukas Turtur and Keeley Forsyth). They are both artists of some kind and also desperate to be the “cool parents.” Ragna is embittered because for all their doting, they are primarily self satisfied. Look what a good example they set with their communal largesse. With their artisan house, cursory questions, and nutrient rich menu, they believe the job of parenting Ragna is complete. Ragna is a competitive trampoliner who secretly fears she is ugly and overweight. Resentment hangs over her blue-streaked head of hair. 

Elsa (Ksenia Devriendt) is the school beauty and Queen Bee. She already has an eating disorder quietly encouraged by her lonely trophy wife mother (Elsa Zylberstein). Her father (Mathieu Demy) is a high-level finance man. He is the bullish bully who refuses to indulge Elsa’s or his wife’s behavior. He has his servants cook elaborate feasts and refuses to let either of the women go until they have eaten to his satisfaction. Greed is good. Pleasure is his just desserts. Elsa is a concert pianist in training. She already metaphorically and literally regurgitates the lessons both her parents have taught. Be perfect, pretty, and powerful.

Ben Benedict (Samuel D. Anderson) is an intellectual scholarship student. Of all the participants in Miss Novak’s class, he is the skeptic. He knows Miss Novak is using pseudoscience mixed with just enough objective evidence to promote her radically restricted diet. His modest background sets him apart from the beautiful people. Although he projects insouciance based on his high grades and academic performance, he has an unrequited crush on Elsa. He is also the roommate of Miss Novak’s most psychologically fragile student — Fred (Luke Barker).

Fred is training to be a classical dancer. He is lithe, fluid, and obsessed with his image. He needs to be seen. His white savior Ghana based NGO parents (Camilla Rutherford and Sam Hoare) have summarily dumped him as a boarding student. For reasons he can’t process he is rejected while they favor his much younger brother. Every attempt he makes to communicate with them is cut short. They barely feign interest in his progress and circumvent every request that he be able to visit them with weak excuses. “The climate is too much for him his delicate skin would burn,” or “It is not a good time to arrive during Seth’s development.”

Fred has a dance instructor who is trying to guide him. Yet, as soon as Miss Novak pays him motherly attention, he rejects him as a jealous gatekeeper who refuses to allow him to experience what he must to become an artiste. A simple pass to allow him to go to an Opera.

Finally, there is the environmental activist, Helen (Gwen Currant), whose parents think nothing of consuming fossil fuels as industrial manufacturers. They are antithetical to her stance as an eco-warrior.

With the exception of Ben’s unpretentious single mother (Amanda Lawrence), almost no one has done their due diligence in screening who comes into contact with their children. Miss Novak, a woman who prays to a mysterious icon for strength to carry out her purpose, was simply found via an internet advertisement. She used self-branded cleansing tea as a way into the school. Miss Novak is an invention of the cult which she serves or the cult of which she is the creator. She is an avatar of an omnipresent devourer – watching, waiting, and stalking. She is Lamia — one who preys on the children of others. Yet without the children, she is nothing.

Promising the children they will be purified, they instead develop Autophagia. Every step they take to become a member of Club Zero relies on primal rituals. Screams, shrieks, and vocal catharsis become a secret language. Common practices in tribal behavior, but also tactics used in indoctrination. There will be a cost, but the result is worth it.

Fred almost dies because he stopped taking his insulin. The arrival of his father at his bedside in the hospital is not because of genuine concern for his son, but because it is the expected gesture of a parent. It’s inconvenient. He once again entrusts Fred to the school; “Fred has always been a difficult child. I have to rely on you. Please take good care of our child.”

Hausner’s technical fingerprints are all over the work. An uncanny internally mid-century modern school with a queasy color palette. Bright yellow and royal purple clash against the clean modernity of Oxford’s Saint Catherine’s College (the key location standing in as the school). Choirs sing about being lifted up to something higher. The banners, statues, and medallions evoke a mixture of traditional pride and the aesthetics of dictatorial states. An elite school is already a battleground for supremacy. 

Similarly, whichever home space the audience encounters speaks to the privilege, or lack thereof, of the inhabitants. Hausner’s aestheticized absurdism is telegraphed via location and composition; expertly filmed by Martin Gschlacht who has a granular understanding of Beck Rainford’s purposive production design.

The audience is experiencing the euphoria of starving children and watching their bodies and minds collapse. Fred’s exam dance recital is glitter-soaked humiliation. A tacky ballet rendition of “Peter and the Wolf” by Rachmaninov. Conversely, Elsa’s piano recital is executed with embodied perfection, but a key spectator is not there to witness her. Ben has gone so far down the rabbit hole he rejects his mother’s ministrations as a form of control. He accuses her of offering him food as an unfair test of his love for her. Ragna’s furtive acquiescence to filling her belly which makes her temporarily an outcast, a failure, and a figure of disgust. Helen’s declaration that if people stop eating no one can starve because of poverty, while later scooping her school provided food into a waste bin with the others. There is no awareness that they are imbedded in late-stage capitalism and any act — mundane or seemingly gifted by manipulation will change anything in the economics of greed.

Eventually, Miss Dorset realizes that Miss Novak is a threat to the school and to her authority over the children. She ignored Miss Benedict’s concerns because her son was not a full fee-paying student. An opportunity to remove Miss Novak comes via alleged sexual impropriety with Fred. Something relayed to her because of one student’s anger at being rejected by another.

The all-powerful parent association meets and discusses the ethics of dismissing Miss Novak. The dark comedic tone belies the fact none of them want to take responsibility for endangering their offspring. The statement “We must not be lenient just because we brought Miss Novak into the school” is Hausner’s pugilistic condemnation of their hypocrisy. 

The removal of Miss Novak doesn’t halt the bizarre behavior of the teens. They were promised deliverance from all that ails them. Their bodies are no longer temples, they are traps. Never feeling “good enough” to be good, each teen forces their parents into stalemate. The parents have to deliver their genetic commodities to the now rightful owner. Body horror, vomiting, regurgitating the regurgitated as an anti-capitalist act. There is no boundary between sacred and profane for them in their delusional state. A version of God asks worshippers to take his body and eat it.  

Or perhaps what was delusional was expecting their children to do whatever they expected from them. Be pretty, do better, be smart, be less visible, stand out more, don’t be demanding, don’t prioritize their own desires. Survive high school group think and come out the other side as rational but extraordinary talents.

“We want to know why.” The parents ask a student.

“Isn’t it obvious?” She responds.

“I thought I did everything I could to support my teen, friend, lover…” is often the lament of those who discover a person who has erased themselves in some manner. “Why didn’t I see the signs?” Hausner’s Club Zero lights up the signs in a sickly neon. Many teens are searching for some kind of faith. Someone they can trust is looking over them. 

Jessica Hausner interviewed high school students before she wrote the script with Géraldine Bajard. They reported the effects of bullying and the weight of expectation on them while at school. Incidents of body dysmorphia, self-harm, disordered eating, and mental health crises among teens has statistically never been higher than it is currently. Youth suicides have increased by over sixty-percent since 2007. Underlying Hausner’s Vantablack satire is a material reality.

Jessica Hauser is often profoundly misconstrued. Perhaps some audiences will see Club Zero as too abject, too fetishizing, and too tonally uneven. Mostly it could be read as too pulchritudinous for a film filled with puke. How can something be so pretty-ugly? Club Zero is not favoring style over substance — which is the entire point Hausner is making. If only the members of Club Zero had something authentic to anchor them, they would no longer fall for falsehoods.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Three’ is Haunting Spiritual Horror


Director: Nayla Al Khaja
Writers: Nayla Al Khaja, Ben Williams, John Collee
Stars: Jefferson Hall, Faten Ahmed, Saud Alzarooni

Synopsis: A boy is going through a mental health crisis, prompting his mother to seek help from an unlikely man. This man must set aside his Western thinking to save her son through an intense ritual.


Often we only think of religious horror, especially possession and exorcism, through the lens of Christianity. In Three, we get a glimpse into the practice of Islamic exorcism. In many ways, the rites are similar. Both use holy men as bulwarks against evil and use the scripture of their holy text to drive out the evil within the possessed.

In this way Three falls into an easy rhythm. It follows the pattern of the exorcism film. The parent is distraught, she seeks help from doctors and when the doctors fail, she goes to the spiritual leader, the ultimate bastion against the unknown. That makes most of Three a bit formulaic. There’s little to set it apart from other films of the genre.

What does differentiate Three from other films like it isn’t only the difference in religion, but the way science interacts with faith. Typically in a film like this, the medical doctor or psychologist would be made irrelevant by the second act. Though, in this film, Dr. Mark Holly (Jefferson Hall) is around for the duration, even being present at and interfering with the exorcism. This integration of science and faith is a way to introduce skepticism into the proceedings. It almost feels like a metaphor for the city of Dubai in which the film takes place. Dubai is a city that straddles the traditions of its indigenous people with the heavy western influence that came with the country’s vast wealth.

There are a few other things that set Three apart from other films in the genre. There is that the djinn possessing Ahmed (Saud Alzarooni) was let in by malevolent human trickery, not by the act of the spirit itself. Alternatively to other films, the family here seeks the help of several mullahs before they find one who will be strong enough to combat the djinn and complete a successful exorcism. It is also of note that the horror of the film isn’t based on simple jump scares.

Director Nayla Al Khaja builds the terror of her film from tension. There is a particularly good scene when Ahmed’s friend Yasmeen (Amna Rehman) comes to visit after Ahmed has been expelled for assaulting his teacher. Ahmed and Yasmeen seem to be having a nice time until Ahmed’s face goes slack and Yasmeen slowly backs away. Ahmed is able to trap Yasmeen in the shower where he repeats words over and over as he smacks the wall, eventually cracking it and also cracking Yasmeen, alerting the adults to what is going on upstairs.

There are several tense scenes like this one that make your heart pound. Though, the tension is often deflated too soon. It builds to a nice peak, but the drop is sudden. The exorcism itself feels anticlimactic because of this. This makes the film less scary rather than just plain unnerving, which isn’t a bad thing, but if you’re looking to be terrified, not a satisfying thing either.

All in all, Three is a solid thriller. It’s derivative of other films in its subgenre. It never fulfills all the aspects of the body horror of exorcism films or the gore of Ahmed’s violence when under possession. See it for the unique take on the genre, not only in the aspect that it is an Islamic exorcism, but that modern science plays a much larger role than in other films of its ilk.

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘Spaceman’ Relies on the Soul of Sandler


Director: Johan Renck
Writers: Jaroslav Kalfar, Colby Day
Stars: Adam Sandler, Carey Mulligan, Paul Dano

Synopsis: Half a year into his solo mission on the edge of the solar system, an astronaut concerned with the state of his life back on Earth is helped by an ancient creature he discovers in the bowels of his ship.


Spaceman attempts to use the backdrop and void of space to examine depression and anxiety about the unknown—yes, the feeling of just how inconsequential we are in the universe, a blip in time, if you will. What Spaceman does is take its time to examine our regrets, fears, and possibly the prospect of reinvention. That’s where Adam Sandler comes in. The role is his best career performance and his most intimate on-screen to date. 

Sandler plays Jakub, an astronaut trying to outrace a South Korean team looking for a pinkish space anomaly resting just past Jupiter. From there, Sandler’s Spaceman is a raw, emotionally expressive, and evocative take on mental health, showcasing how the titular character leaves their most painful feelings on their sleeves.

However, Spaceman begins to meander in its self-pity. I would call director Johan Renck’s (Breaking Bad) penchant for excessive self-exploration an endless drag instead of having the right amount of poignancy. Initially, the film becomes gripping, even suspenseful. That’s because Jakub may have finally been broken for good after six months of solitary confinement in space and in the tin can he calls a ship.

For one, his wife, Lenka (Carey Mulligan), right before Jakub is about to make history, sends an electronic message to her husband, saying she’s filing for divorce. The head of mission control, Commissioner Tuma (Isabella Rossellini), and Jakub’s handler, Peter (The Big Bang Theory’s Kunal Nayyar), intercept the message before he can view it. However, it doesn’t matter, as Jakub has been waiting to hear from Lenka for weeks and can read the stars.

First-time scriptwriter Colby Day then makes a bold choice. Jakub encounters a giant space spider that can talk and goes by the name Hanuš (voiced by Paul Dano). Is this a clear mental break, or has Jakub made another grand discovery? He’s sane enough to ask Peter to locate a camera and tell him what he sees in the control bay, but all of the cameras have been slowly going offline for weeks.

Renck’s pacing and Day’s plotting do an excellent job of keeping the viewer from staying a step ahead of the ending, which ends up being ambiguous, allowing the audience to draw their own conclusions. The interactions between Sandler’s Jakub and Dano’s Hanuš slowly become a fascinating character study of the titular character’s own existential crisis. Dano’s calm, even tone and soothing voice mirror a therapeutic relationship. This allows Sandler’s character to begin pondering themes of his existence, the power of his choices, and the search for the meaning of his life.

This is all very provocative stuff. Yet, the film begins to become mildly repetitive. The script starts to fold in some backstory of how Jakub and Lenka met, even their fights before he left. The film would have done better to add one more layer to flesh out the main character thoroughly. They leave hints of haunting family memories, with Jakub’s father floating away like George Clooney in Gravity

Exploring this part of the human condition in Jakub’s backstory, such as suffering, morality, and paternal relationships, would have added greater depth to the film’s experience. Yet, the film’s final few scenes are sublime. It’s a daunting finale, with a sense of ominous beauty and melancholy that is even more profound. Most movies cannot find an appropriate ending for a film, but Spaceman manages to encompass the vast and powerful setting is a metaphor for what’s essential in life.

Now, Johan Renck’s movie is nothing new; we have seen countless takes on a tried and true story of life and love, even if the setting here.is vastly different. Additionally, the film could have benefited greatly if the filmmakers continued to explore the marriage and Jakub’s haunting childhood with additional flashbacks. However, Spaceman succeeds on the shoulders of Sandler’s soulful turn. He does what great actors do, making the viewer feel something that is emotionally visceral. 

That’s how Sandler’s Spaceman wins.

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Problemista’ is Messy with Promise


Director: Julio Torres
Writer: Julio Torres
Stars: Julio Torres, Tilda Swinton, RZA

Synopsis: Alejandro is an aspiring toy designer from El Salvador struggling to bring his unusual ideas to life in NY. As time runs out on his work visa, a job assisting an erratic art-world outcast becomes his only hope to stay in the country.


Problemista has the My Favorite Shapes comedian-turned-filmmaker Julio Torres venturing into his mind via a whimsical tale of modern-day immigrant life and the fractured art industry. However, it ends up as a messy and disorganized feature with a great scene-stealing performance by the effortlessly captivating Tilda Swinton. 

A24 has been known for giving aspiring filmmakers the freedom to make their debuts so that their voice is smeared across the entire project. That’s one of the things I admire about the independent production company. They roll their dice for a chance at hitting gold with a unique and transcending voice. Lately, they have helped lift the careers of Robert Eggers, Rose Glass, and Ari Aster, amongst other directors, with their respective debuts. The latest person they are helping to express themselves cinematically is comedian Julio Torres, known for his hit special My Favorite Shapes. A24 has teamed up with him to present his debut feature film, Problemista. While it is undoubtedly distinctive and showcases the comedian’s talent as a director stylistic-wise, in which you see how his stand-ups have inspired his vision, the film itself is quite messy and muddled – ending a mostly unfunny and plodding feature.

Julio Torres plays Alejandro, an aspiring toy designer from El Salvador living in New York on a temporary visa. The film’s narrator (Isabella Rossellini) tells us he has always been a dreamer; his mother always encouraged him to explore his creative side. His aspirations lead him to work for Hasbro making unique gifts for kids. He doesn’t want to craft toys that aren’t primarily focused on fun, only those that make children learn something. The reason why Alejandro migrated to the United States is because the toy company’s work application only allows them within the country. As he awaits an answer to his application, he has been making models of his potential future toys and working for a cryogenics company named FreezeCorp. This business sells people the promise of putting them in a cryogenic sleep until they can be awakened later on in the future. 

The problem is that he just got fired from his job because of an accident. This dilemma changes his life for the worse, as he needs another employer to sponsor him so that Alejandro can pay the costs to extend his visa. At last, Alejandro arrives at the hands of an insufferable and eccentric art critic named Elizabeth, who is brought to life by the saving grace of Problemista, the always magnificent Tilda Swinton – she never misses a single beat when it comes to playing anomalous characters. Elizabeth has spent most of her recent time archiving the work of her late husband, Bobby (RZA), who decided to freeze himself after he was diagnosed with terminal cancer. Bobby left her with an array of egg paintings, which she doesn’t seem to understand. 

In order to try and keep that issue out of her hands, she makes Alejandro a promise: if he helps her secure a private show for those paintings, Elizabeth will sponsor him. You begin to see the whimsy of Julio Torres’ vision right from the get-go, for better or worse. This tendency helps him curate an array of scenarios in which he can innovatively explore his (and his character’s) anxieties. Torres seeks inspiration from the work of Charlie Kaufman and Spike Jonze, albeit without the wit and sharpness that comes with the storytelling of these filmmakers. From Alejandro’s glimpses of his fairy-tale-like childhood to the personification of his frustration through detailed, overly capricious set-pieces, these scenes sum up the creativity simmering in his mind, both as a comedian and a filmmaker. 

The eccentricity emerging from each plot thread feels reminiscent of what people love about his stand-up work. Although I’m not a fan of his comedy, I admire how he intertwined his passion with a new art form he’s still trying to figure out. Unfortunately, this array of circumstances that Torres puts his characters in arrives as a messy nuisance that plagues the entire picture for several reasons. First and foremost, the human elements scattered across the film – the main character’s aspirations, backstory, love interests, and future – aren’t explored to their fullest degree in exchange for these whimsical and weird dream-like scenes. You never feel that working at Hasbro is one of Alejandro’s main priorities. And putting a rival/roommate alongside him doesn’t do it any favors since he doesn’t do anything with these plot threads or ideas. 

The only time you get an emotional payout is when Problemista begins to speak about the modern-day life of immigrants. That’s when the film becomes something rather touching and fulfilling. However, the rest seems tied up in frivolous attire that separates the viewer from the director’s vision and story. The image of people disappearing after their visas are not extended is haunting. This short scene is supposed to elicit an impact on the viewer. Yet, because it is submerged in a movie that wants to dedicate time to anything but plot development, you never get that emotional attachment to what’s happening. Torres’ ideas are scattered and disorganized; the main issue is that Problemista wants to bite more than it can chew – failing to manage style and substance with the message he wants to present in his debut. 

The second reason the film falls flat is that its jokes aren’t funny. Some of the best segments rely on Swinton’s Elizabeth, who amazingly chews the scenery and is, by far, the best thing in the film. She’s described as a fire-breathing dragon, and Swinton literally takes that description into consideration for her performance. These scenes are pretty funny, not because of the screenplay but because of her line delivery and attitude. Yet, it comes as a double-edged sword because you see that Problemista is becoming a one-trick pony. 

Whenever the movie feels like it is falling apart, it gives you another one of those scenes where Swinton shines. But the audience can’t be amused by such a joke if it’s the only one being used. All of my issues aside, Julio Torres has some talent behind the camera. However, he needs to be able to trim the fat out of his screenplays and focus on one specific side of his ideas and concepts. There’s so much going on in Problemista, and nothing actually feels satisfactory in the end. 

Grade: C-

Superficial Enjoyment of ‘Zone 414’

Tycoon Marlon Viedt (Travis Fimmel) sends former detective turned freelance investigator David Carmichael (Guy Pearce) into Zone 414 – Veidt’s safe zone for interacting with his lifelike robots in all manner of discreet vice. There, David must find Veidt’s missing daughter Melissa, and the self-aware, emotive robot Jane (Matilda Lutz) assists him despite fears against her own life and the suspicion that a client is being paid to kill her.

I had heard the worst about2021’s Zone 414, sometimes subtitled The City of Robots, but I don’t think it’s as terrible as other reviews suggest. Certainly, the human depravity and sociopathy is not completely addressed. Zone 414 plays at the sinister ghetto without actually showing much. Omnipresent surveillance and multiple camera angles try to establish this world in drawn out to and from transitions but the point of view is undefined thanks to the unnecessary mystery framework that isn’t much of a whodunit. Perhaps the through the lens viewpoint is intentional to mirror our current social media and distorted perceptions, but the old school design and superficial commentary don’t mesh. Naked robots for sale are rudely examined and emotional androids need therapy maintenance sessions, yet it’s tough to know what Zone 414 is about when such intriguing scenes are cut short. 

Hollow middle man facilitators are on their own power trips, addressing the cliches of the Zone and thinking the entire enterprise would collapse without them in scenes that will have too much double talk for viewers expecting more action. Some chase sequences and violent moments, on the other hand, feel unnecessary if this is going to be a character driven piece, yet the expected unlikely opposites attract robot romance also never happens. Obviously it would have been too Fifth Element-esque if David was a cab driver escorting a hefty fare into the Zone. However, having our protagonists anonymously driven about in aesthetic overhead shots serves no purpose, especially when walking throughout the heady Zone for their investigation would have better immersed them and us into the seedy.


One point of view character would have also helped Zone 414 but instead omnipresent visuals toy with debriefing interviews, android outcomes, out of order attacks, and crime revelations – muddling any commentary and leaving the audience questioning what actually happens. David Biblical references could have been explored further, and debates on reason and morality versus god complexes and power deserved more. Fortunately, there are interesting nuggets from debut director Andrew Baird (One Way) and writer Bryan Edward Hill (Titans) on control, vices, and the sexual nature of our robots in this sanctioned red district. Ubiquitous Echo response devices see and hear all while weak men pay a million dollars to cry or kill in hotel rooms designed with the bedroom in the front and living room in the back because the sex is why they’re there. Disturbing choice moments with the culprit are memorably demented, and standard model female robots are recirculated to creeps who pay not to hurt them…much. The people caught in the middle have to take the money or excise their depravity, used and abused just like these androids. The Zone will continue to claim there is no violence and its clients and robots are safe – for the right price. Who and what is real if we’re all replaceable with an android? Disturbing revelations of what happens to disposed robots and their assembled parts comes down to the person in control. Our robots can only stand in fear as their handler locks them in place and turns on the blowtorch in a stirring finale.

It’s somewhat silly, yet provocative the way Matilda Lutz’s (Revenge) hair color changes as the emotive prototype Jane. Her look bending to please each man mirrors what women will do to be attractive, and Zone 414’s entire focus could have been her sadness. Jane pleases depraved clients so well that they have their catharsis and don’t want her again, leaving her humiliated and suicidal despite the automatic self-repairs after each attempt. Jane won’t do something if she’s not commanded, but she will give in to forced requests as her program dictates, again reflecting a woman’s often heard “little girl do what you’re told.” 

She resists the idea that she has any masters, but Jane also takes the blame for a crime she didn’t do because they tell her she must. Rather than dig deep into Jane’s internal conflict, however, Zone 414 confuses its audience with our lookalike poor little rich girl who wants to be an android missing daughter. We actually never really see her – a non-entity more MacGuffin than character who detracts from the more important fearful and fatalistic Jane. Admittedly, the age make-up on Travis Fimmel (Vikings) is terrible. However, it’s a fun kind of bad fitting for the plastic, youthful obsessions, and depraved dysmorphia. Our megalomaniac genius has orchestrated an entirely fake world – right down to the robot mother feeding him his steak. Sadly, Veidt only has a few scenes, leaving this potentially disturbing characterization as just another cliché. Zone pimp Olwen Fouéré (Mandy) suggests much more alongside the menacing if obvious Jonathan Aris (Sherlock), assorted psychopaths, and colorful henchfolk. Brief moments from disturbed wealthy clients Colin Salmon (The World is not Enough), Jóhannes Hauker Jóhannesson (Atomic Blonde), and robot therapist Fionnula Flannagan (The Others) become stereotypical and superfluous as Zone 414’s entire supporting cast goes underutilized.

Fortunately, Guy Pearce’s grumpy cop has an iffy past with kicked off the force shady and no qualms about coldly shooting a pleading android and disassembling its brain core. David thinks he’s above what happens in the Zone – its degeneracy isn’t his style but he’ll look the other way for the huge paycheck. Scheduling issues forced Pearce and Fimmel to switch their original roles, and although I can see Pearce hamming it up as our crazed corporate egotist, it’s fitting that his David is older, jaded, leaning against the wall, and rolling his eyes. He claims to others he doesn’t drink yet is seen drinking alone, and Zone 414’s best moments are the existential one-on-ones between David and Jane debating who is the prisoner or the prison when everybody has secrets as well as an accessible file. Of course, David’s personal motivation comes late in the hour as he solves the case because the movie says so, not because he did any real investigating or had a profound experience. Pearce has had an odd film streak since the pandemic with Without Remorse, The Seventh Day, Bloodshot, Memory, and Disturbing the Peace being undercooked at best and downright bad at worst. His performances are fine despite this rut – especially on television be it briefly in Mare of Easttown or stellar in Jack Irish. Indeed, I applaud Pearce for lending his clout to smaller roles, indie chances, and working with first time directors and newer screenwriters, particularly considering Zone 414’s mere $5 million budget.

Though Zone 414 tries for a certain stylistic neo-noir, the old yellow cabs, colorful neon cityscapes, and Asian influences all feel like pieces of other films, perhaps Johnny Mnemonic more so than Blade Runner. Retro futuristic vinyl, flash cameras, and vintage phones pepper the high tech robotics with a gritty nineties mood, but the tough to see dark scenes and contemporary digital gradient jar with the attempted old school design. Occasional surveillance camera footage and jumpy VHS intercuts of our victim with smeared lipstick or a bag over her head become unnecessary cool visuals for the audience rather than any real Big Brother statements, and one final daylight shot is too on the nose. Thankfully, the audio accents are a more subtle touch – tape rewinding sounds and old fashioned dial tones better invoke the downtrodden past meeting a bleak future that happens to have androids. If this was a nineties television movie, Zone 414 would be praised for intriguing themes under such confined restraints. Today however, Zone 414 is caught between being something that could have been provocative and your run of the mill direct to streaming release. Its superficial android versus human expectations are the result of the industry’s ever expanding whirlpool – too little seen Zone 414 makes no money and our director apparently has the same fly by night production problems on his next feature. Baird and Pearce have since re-teamed for the newly available Sunrise, which other reviews have criticized for the same quick turnaround deflating too many ideas. I wonder what would happen if someone gave Baird more time and money to see what kind of picture he could make?

Zone 414′s rushed, confusing, science fiction familiarity tries to do too much and will disappoint viewers expecting deeper sociological examination. This should be a tighter piece focusing on character introspection inside a bigger statement. An obscure 1995 robot movie I have on VHS called Automatic did this well. By cutting unnecessary tangents and honing its main themes in another draft, Zone 414 could have been a step above its low budget, stretched thin sci-fi retreads. Although the story will feel superficial and incomplete unless you watch this more than once, there’s enough intrigue and cast and crew interest for me to see Zone 414 again.

Movie Review (Berlinale 2024): ‘Matt and Mara’ is Small-Scale Resonant Drama


Director: Kazik Radwanski
Writers: Samantha Chater, Kazik Radwanski
Stars: Matt Johnson, Deragh Campbell, Simon Reynolds

Synopsis: A young professor struggles in her marriage, only to meet Matt, a man from her past who wanders onto her university campus.


Credited as the initiator of the New Canadian Cinema movement because of his shorts, Kazik Radwanski is known for making small-scale dramas that, upon watching them, you perceive the liberation from the story and the filmmaking. Everything he crafts seems pure, yet it reminds you of the mumblecore pictures that arose during the 2000s. This combination makes his films feel freeform – not containing any dramatic additives that separate his films from the grounded nature they are basked in. This translates into Radwanski’s latest, Matt and Mara (screening at this year’s Berlinale in the Encounters section), in a more perspicacious manner, yet somehow not containing the tense and silent emotional force of his previous work. 

Continuing to work with his “muse” Deragh Campbell, one of the best American talents crossing through the plains of independent cinema, the film centers around Mara (Campbell, Anne at 13,000 Ft.), a creative writing teacher who is struggling with her marriage to an experimental musician, Sami (Mounir Al-Shami). During one of her poetry classes, an old friend of hers, Matt (Matt Johnson), is hanging around in the corner of the room. She hadn’t seen him in years; Mara was quite surprised at his appearance – garnering a big smile on her face that she couldn’t hide. The camera focuses on Campbell’s facial expressions; we see how Mara continues her lecture while trying to hold off on her genuine emotions upon his arrival.

There’s something about how Deragh Campbell approaches her characters that gives you a big chunk of the emotional weight in the story with just a mere look or the first impression she gives. In this case, because of the looks she offers, you sense that something holds back the titular characters from being completely open with one another. Immediately, the thought that there was something between them, whether platonic or romantic, arises from the looks in their eyes. But Matt Johnson doesn’t stay that far behind Campbell, even if she is indeed the standout. Pairing them together gives Matt and Mara the necessary brevity to be more grounded, even with the screenplay having some mumblecore–like and quirky lines. 

As the film’s title implies, they are connected in ways that go beyond the simplistic nature of Radwanski’s storytelling approach. When the class ends, we get a proper introduction to Matt. He is now a published author living in New York; his success doesn’t really bother Mara, yet there’s a small barrier of resentment, at least from Mara’s side. Yet, Radwanski is hiding away the details behind his history with Mara. In a way, this is a film about the concealment of feelings, where the characters aren’t saying what they would like to say and decide to remain silent rather than expressing what’s drowning them on the inside. 

In other instances, there’s also the case of not being bothered by the nature of their current relationship, yet feeling that tingling in your spine when being accompanied by a person who made your life better in the past. This intrigues the viewer into questioning the status of their past relationship. What’s their story? How long have they known each other? Were they lovers, colleagues, rivals, long-time friends, or something lying in between? Since the answers to these questions aren’t revealed in their totality, you are left to assumptions for the initial portion of the film. In your mind, this all leads to a potential or previous affair, as Mara is currently married and has a daughter, Avery (Avery Nayman). Since she doesn’t like the music her husband creates, all story angles lead to a separation. 

But Matt and Mara isn’t this type of film, and Radwanski doesn’t like to simplify this story in such a manner that it can be deemed as a cliched and constantly produced “what could have been” tale. You don’t see the “will they, won’t they” interactions that narratively arise from similar films. And I believe it is for the better; if the film were to take that route, it would dwell on some unnecessary artificial emotions that may hinder its core. Instead, we get elusive dialogue and scenes that make you reflect on these situations. If you have gone through a similar situation – a friendship that may have turned into something more at a different time and place – you may be able to resonate with it due to the tangibility of the care given by the actors in their respective performances. It all adds to the silent, pocket-sized beauty that lingers during Matt and Mara

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Drive Away Dolls’ Sputters Slowly


Director: Ethan Coen
Writers: Ethan Coen, Tricia Cooke
Stars: Margaret Qualley, Geraldine Viswanathan, Beanie Feldstein

Synopsis: Jamie regrets her breakup with her girlfriend, while Marian needs to relax. In search of a fresh start, they embark on an unexpected road trip to Tallahassee. Things quickly go awry when they cross paths with a group of inept criminals.


When the credits began to roll on Drive Away Dolls, I thought, “It’s time for an intervention to bring the Coen brothers back together.” That’s because Ethan Coen’s story is a pale comparison to his brother’s previous work. The film reminded me of what I heard in the original draft of Good Will Hunting. Damon and Affleck initially told the story of how a genius janitor, Will Hunting, saved the school in some Die Hard escapade. Then, Rob Reiner looked over the script and told them to stick with Will and his therapist, and the rest was history.

Here, Drive Away Dolls dilutes a vibrant and compelling story about the intimacy between the lead characters. The result is another nail in the coffin of estrangement between the Coens, a spectacularly failed experiment. Not because most of the films apart are bad, even though Drive Away Dolls is a substandard effort. It’s the fact that every movie apart proves how ordinary their films are compared to their spectacular endeavors together.

It is set in 1999 in Philadelphia and follows two best friends. One is Jamie (Margaret Qualley), who complement each other differently. Both are gay. Jamie is the unbuttoned, let-her-hair-down type who is independent, unconventional, and spontaneous. Her carefree Texas spirit embodies a combination of a carefree, self-assured attitude and a positive, accepting approach toward sexuality. The other is Marian (Geraldine Viswanathan), the buttoned-up type. The kind that won’t unfasten the top one even if it’s cutting off circulation to her head. She’s conservative and reserved and views spontaneity as a mental health disorder rather than living your best life. She becomes visibly uncomfortable when talking about sex and increasingly so with her sexual orientation.

Jamie then cheats on Sukie (a very funny Beanie Feldstein), a local cop in town. Sukie’s angry; she’s stuck with Jamie’s Chihuahua named Alice B. Toklas (a shrewd touch) and a dildo that was finely crafted to a wall like a taxidermy deer head. Marian wants to visit her aunt in Florida, so Jamie tags along, and they utilize a snowbird driveway service from a man you should not call Curly (Bill Camp). However, curly mistakes the young women as couriers for something illegal in the trunk that could blow the top off an American political system and a major scandal. 

From that point on, Drive Away Dolls is a fairly typical story under the LGBTQ+ beard that makes you think the story is something more special than it really is. If you take away the characters’ sexuality, you have a script that is a version of several Coen brothers’ crime classics that’s uneven. The film somehow manages to somehow be light and unfunny simultaneously, then takes 90-degree turns. That includes a scene involving Pedro Pascal, who abandons the Coen brothers’ dark wit for just disturbing and graphic violence that’s gratuitous.

The first half-hour of Drive Away Dolls has some amusing deadpan remarks from Viswanathan, who is so good in comedies like Blockers, The Package, and The Broken Hearts Gallery. Still, her character hardly evolves from her wet blanket status. Qualley is so good in one of last year’s best films, Sanctuary, and is a breath of fresh air here until the character never grows into anything past what Cyndi Lauper used to sing about. That’s because the film should have put its focus on Jamie and Marian’s relationship, which would have allowed for personal and emotional growth. 


It’s a funny thing with Drive-Away Dolls. Ethan Coen has made a Coen Brothers movie that has become tiresome because, when it aims to shock with its trademark subversiveness, there is simply no purpose for it. Ethan Coen’s film is utterly predictable, the script is overwritten, and the style is overdone. That includes the Matt Damon cameo, the plot’s centerpiece that should have been thrown out to begin with.

Grade: D+

‘Chances Are’ Remains Charming

After a flirtatious meeting with Miranda Jeffries (Mary Stuart Masterson) at Yale, Alex Finch (Robert Downey Jr.) remembers his past life as her late father, Louie Jeffries (Christopher McDonald). Alex renews his romance with the widowed Corinne (Cybill Shepherd), who has continued to idealize Louie for twenty-three years despite the love and support of Louie’s best friend Phillip Train (Ryan O’Neal). Phillip thinks Alex is an impostor, Alex must put off Miranda’s advances, and Corinne tries to explain to her therapist that she’s finally met someone – her dead husband in a new body.

Emile Ardolino (Dirty Dancing) directs the 1989 crisscrossing romantic comedy Chances Are with wedded bliss, white lights, clouds, and humorous mistakes at the pearly gates leading to reincarnation, self-aware awkwardness, and multiple love triangles. Rather than today’s scandalous relations or laugh out loud juvenile gags; the preposterous framework is upfront; balanced by pleasant academia, newsrooms, and museums. The witty dialogue and ensemble chemistry carry the winks and perfectly timed chuckles as coincidental meetings and feelings that they have met before begat soft focus memories, familiar mannerisms, surprise knowledge, and bemusing realizations. A visit to the metaphysical shop provides kooky psychics who explain why the same souls circle each other, and Chances Are shrewdly uses its punchlines amid deeper concepts, underlying grief, anger, and sadness. Why should one care about a past life when the current one is such a struggle? Why open old wounds and make it harder to move on in the present? Chances Are is well filmed with choice zooms and up close shots accenting foreground actions and background asides during the wooing of wealthy donors at the exhibit and zany knock ’em dead dance sequences. However, the camera also knows when to stay still as the pillow fights and bedroom surprises escalate to kisses and switch-a-roos. Instead of weirdness, the heartwarming whirlwind only lasts a few days, and the well paced Chances Are doesn’t overstay its welcome. Corrupt judges, investigative reporters, and museum in peril clues bookend the revelations, bumps on the head, and weddings as Chances Are comes full circle.


Widowed but beautiful curator Cybill Shepherd (Moonlighting) has kept the memory of her deceased husband alive with his picture by the bed, in the car, and the refrigerator. She bakes him birthday cakes despite her therapist’s suggestion that she stop perpetuating this fantasy. Although Corinne is initially suspicious of Alex, a few secrets and memories prove that he is Louie – leaving her discombobulated, wearing odd shoes, and stripping down to her satin lingerie. She tells her therapist she’s ripe and ready to find love again, but can it really be with the twenty-two year old reincarnation of her dead husband? Christopher McDonald (Quiz Show) only appears as the deceased Louie early, but his ball of fire is an omnipresent character throughout Chances Are in flashes and photos – that is until Corinne is finally ready to let him go. 

Of course, Corinne doesn’t approve of her daughter’s missing link boyfriends. She wants Mary Stuart Masterston’s (Some Kind of Wonderful) interning lawyer Miranda to find the perfect man, someone who meets her idealized version of Louie. Instead, Miranda encourages the late Ryan O’Neal (Paper Moon) as torch carrying Phillip to finally make his move on Corinne. Phillip says they feel like a family, just without a marriage or sex, and we want him to fight for Corinne as she and Alex grow closer. Robert Downey Jr.’s (Oppenheimer) likable, aloof Alex doesn’t initially know he’s the reincarnated Louie and woos Miranda when not living in his car. After failing to get a job at The Washington Post despite his clever delivery boy con to gain entry, Phillip takes him under his wing and sparks the past life flashbacks. Alex feels at home immediately and tries to tell Corinne the truth while fending off Miranda, and Downey perfectly balances the humor and seriousness within the same scene. Alex knows he has to make things right whether he is Louie or not, and this remains one of my favorite Downey performances.

The prerequisite Johnny Mathis staples accent Maurice Starr’s (Lawrence of Arabia) lovely score – excellent melodies that know how to be serious or bemusing without being intrusive – and the Oscar nominated power ballad duet “After All” by Cher and Peter Cetera tops off the eighties feel good sappy. Diegetic piano playing also confirms the character truths, letting the compelling romantic drama unfold in scene without any need for over-editing or post-production embellishment. “Forever Young” Rod Stewart pop cues likewise punctuate cinematic moments, and the stirring lyrics are more pleasing than our contemporary braaam braaam intense. Rather than the decade’s hip neon and excess, however, Chances Are looks classy with billowy sleeves, wispy frocks, ladies dress suits, hats, veils, white gloves, pearls, and Jackie O diamonds capturing the sixties reincarnation nostalgia. Smithsonian behind the scenes, Washington D.C. locales, and a fine, upscale townhouse invoke an elite, Camelot mood. Sure, the pink and white décor everywhere with prim floral wallpaper and hefty furniture is grandma sentimental, but the uncluttered, room to maneuver, bright interiors also feel refreshing compared to our 21st century onscreen dim. A vintage convertible Beetle, roll up car windows, big radios, horseshoe phones, and family picture frames anchor the fanciful what ifs, and for a $16 million budget Chances Are still looks quite good.


Instead of focusing on the fantastical bells and whistles, the romantic farce here remains charming thanks to the focused humor, ensemble interplay, mature dialogue, and sophisticated chemistry. The well done eighties meets sixties nostalgia doesn’t feel dated, and Chances Are gets better with repeat viewings. Today’s audience probably never doubts that all the eighties twee will work out in the end, but Chances Are is so delightful in getting there.

Movie Review: ‘Float’ Never Manages To Rise Above Meager Expectations


Director: Sherren Lee
Writers: Jesse LaVercombe, Sherren Lee, Kate Marchant
Stars: Robbie Amell, Andrea Bang, Sarah Desjardins

Synopsis: After she nearly drowns, a young woman unexpectedly falls for the small-town lifeguard who rescued her. Based on the novel by Kate Marchant.


At what point will audiences tire of predictable, stakeless romance? You know the type: the stories where girl meets boy, boy has demons, girl and boy fall in love, and boy inevitably says something stupid along the way that endangers the future of their liaison. These narratives have long-been layups for authors and screenwriters alike, particularly those in search of five-finger exercises they can dangle before a built-in audience that spends too much time scrolling endless lists of VOD titles before resorting to the viewing that looks the cutest. As a moviegoer who spends most of his time desperately seeking out fresh storytelling over recyclable fare — unless, of course, it’s for a review — I ask again: When will we collectively move beyond the need for these stories?

The simple answer? Probably never. The devil isn’t in the details, but in the ease with which these projects are crafted, performed, and thus delivered to prospective viewers like spoonfuls of sugar. So although Float, Sherren Lee’s debut feature, is merely a drop in this bucket, it’s still frustratingly unoriginal and telegraphed to within an inch of its life, par for the course in the corner of a genre that feels like it has failed to produce a birdie, much less a hole in one, for the better part of the 21st century. 

Lee’s film, based on Kate Marchant’s 2022 novel of the same name, centers on Waverly (Andrea Bang), a med student who has dutifully followed the predestined path her parents laid out for her at an early age. As the start date for her upcoming residency in Toronto inches closer, impulsivity kicks in and she ventures to a small Canadian town to visit her aunt (Michelle Krusiec) and figure out the part of life that places an emphasis on actually living. The town is quaint, and the people, welcoming; Waverly has been longing for connection, and almost immediately finds it, albeit a touch rudely.

The connection isn’t forced, per se, but it is brought on forcibly, when she falls into a lake at a beach party. Waverly, of course, can’t swim, and thus requires saving. Thank goodness the handsome, damaged lifeguard, Blake (Robbie Amell) — who lives next door to Waverly’s aunt — was there to break up the fight that knocked Waverly into the water, and to save her from certain sinkage. Once the two resurface and dry off, a connection has been formed, a mutual attraction has been established, and the groundwork for a summer romance, set in motion. Blake offers to teach Waverly how to swim. And what better for a budding love story than skin-to-skin contact in the shallow end.

But there are problems with this courtship. For one, Waverly still wants to be a doctor despite the reluctance to follow her parent’s plan to a tee. This detour wasn’t designed for roots to be planted, but for freedom to be enjoyed before the reality of responsibility sets in. As for Blake, he and his sister, Isabel (Sarah Desjardins), lost their parents at an early age, and he has vowed to protect her from the world he imagines as harsh and full of bad boyfriends. While Waverly can’t break free of the destiny she both wants for herself and wishes to reject because of parental influence, Blake can’t bring himself to fully open up because of his self-imposed responsibility, a lifeguard too busy making sure no one in his emotional purview sinks to realize that he can barely keep his own head above water.

It’s a tale as old as time, as long as time is measured in schlocky romantic dramas based on beach reads. A cute girl enters the unknown confines of a kitschy town and finds herself enamored with a local, and he with her, despite in/external distractions persistently threatening the fantasy. Netflix seems to adore churning out films of this ilk; 2022’s Along for the Ride comes to mind, though that flick’s heroine knew how to swim, but could neither let loose nor ride a bike. And while Float isn’t a Netflix product, it fits the mold most streaming libraries would find comfort in, their audiences following suit. This is a watchable film, and fairly well-performed one, but is ultimately an over-sanitized, sexless depiction of flirtation between adults that might as well be called The Summer I Turned Pretty and Learned How to Swim. (Or, better yet, Dr. Love or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Pool.)

Back to that fairly well-performed element. I should clarify that neither Andrea Bang (previously seen in 2022’s Fresh and 2019’s Luce) nor Robbie Amell are asked to do much other than go on the charm offensive and stare longingly into each other’s eyes as everyone else in town roots for their future together. Bang successfully captures Waverly’s summer-long angst but doesn’t quite nail the heavier emotional elements of her character’s story, like the fact that, despite incessant pressure from her parents, she hasn’t seen them in years, for reasons unknown.

The more-recognizable Robbie Amell, meanwhile, remains a curious case of an actor. Probably best-known for looking like he’s never thrown a football before in 2015’s The DUFF, Amell is both hot and charismatic enough to lead an Amazon series and to stand out as one of the few real actors in C-films like The Babysitter and Simulant, but not nearly chameleonic or talented enough to have a Glen Powell-esque filmography. I’ll put it this way: If Amell was the dude under the brim of a cowboy hat in the trailer for the upcoming Twister sequel, Twisters, you’d buy him as a disposable heartthrob, not as an important force in the film’s central plot. 
Float’s principle issues, however, are embedded in the fabric of its genre, not its cast. The romantic framework is growing tired and repetitive, thus shaping misbegotten attempts at storytelling that fail to mine any real emotion from its narrative because the focus is elsewhere. Not everyone has to be Nora Ephron, nor should they even try. But unless filmmakers are willing — or able — to craft something new in this genre, or at worst, to convey a fresh sensation from something familiar, perhaps it’s best not to try altogether.

Grade: D

Movie Review (Berlinale 2024): ‘La Cocina’ Stages Too Many Dramas


Director: Alonso Ruizpalacios
Writers: Alonso Ruizpalacios, Arnold Wesker
Stars: Kerry Ardra, María Fernanda Bosque, Raúl Briones Carmona

Synopsis: Follows the life in the kitchen of a NYC restaurant where cultures from all over the world blend during the lunchtime rush.


Alonso Ruizpalacios’ latest work, inspired by Arnold Wesker’s debut play of the same name, La Cocina (The Kitchen, screening in the Competition section for this year’s Berlinale), contains his usual, tangible narrative panderings that make his work so gripping. As previously in Güeros and his short Café Paraíso; betrayal, love, jealousy, and anger are at the forefront of this cinematic non-nouvelle yet cognizant cuisine. The Mexican filmmaker puts his characters through various emotional boiling points. However, it is a slight departure from his previous features, as it is a more staged and actorly piece rather than a naturalistic one, which is the critical factor in both its detriment and success. 

Opening with Henry David Thoreau’s quote, “the world is a place of business,” and arriving beforehand with the tagline “a tragic and comic tribute to the invisible people who prepare our food”, La Cocina is set in Hell’s Kitchen, New York. However, that location is the metaphorical representation of what goes on inside of the establishment, where arguments and the stress from the orders piling up flavor each meal prepared and spice up the atmosphere into an explosive array of discontent. Ever since I spent a year as a bartender/waiter at a local sit-down restaurant, I have seen these types of projects in a different light – understanding the highs and lows that this ultimately exhausting experience can bring. In a single day, we see the ins and outs of a restaurant on 49th Street named The Grill. 

This tourist trap gets hectic immediately as soon as the doors open and gets worse as it heads to dinner time. Considering the current trend of making culinary dramas, everything is far more frantic in the kitchen as opposed to where the customers wine and dine. A couple of situations are stacking up, one on top of the other in The Grill. Estela (Anna Diaz) is making her way to the restaurant with hopes that a family friend, the head cook Pedro (Raúl Briones Carmona), will help her get a job there. Secondly, a lot of money is missing from the previous night’s shift. About eight hundred dollars aren’t appearing, and everyone, from the waiting staff to the dishwashers, is being interviewed to find the culprit. 

The staff, mainly immigrants, try to fight for their respective jobs amidst the chaos. The restaurant’s owner, Rashid (Oded Fehr), told Pedro he would help him get his papers. But upon the disappearance of the money he is being accused of stealing, that sidetracks things heavily. The third (and final) situation comes in two parts, relating to the young cook Pedro, whose world is changing like a quick switch between love and violence, exasperation and hope. He is dealing with the aftershocks of two different situations: a fight with one of the cooks, which has the entire staff uneasy, and his affair with a member of the wait staff, Julia (Rooney Mara) – who is scheduled to have an abortion that same day. 

These scenarios develop layers of anger and disquietude, albeit not in the same manner as a horror/thriller picture. The frustration starts to boil as the pressure within the atmosphere gets ahold of them. To be completely honest, it all seems like there is too much happening at the same time. This causes La Cocina to garner a chaotic identity on its back, keeping it detached from the initially hinted-at truthful tenure and instead opting for one that can be deceived as slightly exanimate. To its benefit, Ruizpalacios has always had a keen eye for playing with how he handles the scenery and the atmosphere. Because of his directorial choices in these facets, a John Cassavetes-like sensibility emerges here. 

Both through its looks (monochrome cinematography and aspect ratio, which switches from 4:3 to 16:9) and in the performances by the talented cast (particularly Anna Díaz), you see how the legendary American filmmaker has inspired Ruizpalacios in La Cocina. Aesthetic-wise, there’s a slight resemblance to films like Faces and Shadows. This adds a bit of flair to the small-scale scenery and helps the film stand out. The staginess and boxed presentation help provide a more personal lens of the character’s lives. This allows the viewer to move around the story amidst the claustrophobic, suffocating locale. Even if this feature lacks the detail-orientated authenticity of the recently released kitchen dramas, Ruizpalacios correctly captures the nature of all. And I have to give him credit where it is due, as some scenes reminded me of my own experiences or ones that co-workers have gone through. 

But even though that sensation is organic, La Cocina feels overly excessive most of the time due to the theatrical nature of the source material and the translation from stage to screen. After mentioning these scenarios the characters are going through, you’d think this would amount to some high stakes in the grand scheme of things. The viewer might expect that, near closing its curtains, these situations would conclude in a way that delivers an astute observation on the immigrant experience or even the daily lives of restaurant workers and the working class. But what results in La Cocina’s closure are questions about the meaning behind being put through all of this. As it goes through the extraneous two-hour-plus runtime, Ruizpalacios packs every story beat with more thematic heft than the others, to the point where the final product is overcooked and unnecessarily opulent. 

Grade: C

Chasing the Gold: Final SAG Predictions!

Awards season is in full swing with BAFTA now in the rearview mirror and SAG just hours away. What is going to win in the top five film categories at SAG? Here are my final predictions!

Best Supporting Actor

The easiest category to predict this year at SAG is Best Supporting Actor, which doesn’t look to have any potential spoilers who can beat Robert Downey Jr. for Oppenheimer. He has dominated this season thus far at the televised ceremonies for his performance in Christopher Nolan’s beloved epic, and there’s nothing to suggest he would lose at SAG. 

It seems unfair for Ryan Gosling’s acclaimed performance in Barbie to not win any major prizes—I have always assumed he has been in second place at every televised ceremony—but he just can’t overcome the steamrolling in the category Downey Jr. has accomplished these past few weeks. Robert De Niro for Killers of the Flower Moon and Willem Dafoe for Poor Things are just happy to be hhere, especially Dafoe who didn’t receive an Oscar nomination. And although Sterling K. Brown has won at SAG before on the television side for This is Us, his turn in American Fiction unfortunately won’t put him over the edge.

Anyone but Robert Downey Jr. winning in this category at SAG will be a jaw-dropping shocker. 

FINAL PREDICTION: Robert Downey Jr., Oppenheimer

Best Supporting Actress

Another obvious prediction to make going into SAG is Da’Vine Joy Randolph for The Holdovers. This is a performance that hasn’t missed anywhere this awards season at the televised ceremonies—like Downey Jr., she won at Golden Globes, Critics Choice, and BAFTA, and she won almost every critic’s prize as well. She has had such immense strength in this category that it will be difficult for anyone else to overtake her.

For many weeks I have wondered if Emily Blunt could surprise at SAG for Oppenheimer since she had that shocker victory in 2019 in A Quiet Place, her performance that year not even nominated at the Oscars. Oppenheimer has been dominating enough this season that Blunt seems the likeliest choice for a dark horse spoiler, and remember, Jamie Lee Curtis won at SAG last year for Everything Everywhere All at Once after not winning anything else beforehand. So Blunt has an outside shot, while Danielle Brooks for The Color Purple, Jodie Foster for Nyad, and especially Penelope Cruz for Ferrari don’t have enough strength for a victory.     

Ultimately, based on everything that’s happened since January, a win for anyone but Randolph would be a huge surprise. 

FINAL PREDICTION: Da’Vine Joy Randolph, The Holdovers

Best Actor

This is, by far, the most difficult category to call, both at SAG and the Oscars. It appears to be a three-way race between Cillian Murphy for Oppenheimer, Paul Giamatti for The Holdovers, and Bradley Cooper for Maestro. Yes, I said Bradley Cooper. Even though he has lost every televised prize thus far, if there is anywhere he could pull off a shocker win, it’s at SAG. His role in Maestro is big and transformative, the kind of performance awards voters usually go for, especially other actors. Although a Cooper victory at SAG is a longshot, he could be a potential upset.

Cillian Murphy won in Best Actor at BAFTA and in the Motion Picture Drama side at the Golden Globes, and he could easily take the SAG prize as well. He is the lead of the year’s most celebrated film, and with Downey Jr. likely taking Best Supporting Actor, SAG voters might reward Murphy, too. I worry that Murphy’s performance isn’t showy enough to win at this particular ceremony, so he’s not my choice here, although I still think if Murphy loses at SAG he could still win at the Oscars. Colman Domingo for Rustin and Jeffrey Wright for American Fiction are just happy to be here, although Wright has a slightly better chance at a shocker upset given his film got into Best Supporting Actor and Best Cast. 

In a very competitive category, Paul Giamatti is probably going to win Best Actor at SAG. He gives a big, showy performance that leans into both comedy and drama in The Holdovers, and he won the Golden Globe Award in the Comedy or Musical category and beat Cillian Murphy at Critics Choice. SAG has also recognized Giamatti before, first in the Best Cast category for Sideways and second for Best Supporting Actor in Cinderella Man. It’s not a sure thing, but this year, I do think SAG voters are going to reward him again for The Holdovers.

FINAL PREDICTION: Paul Giamatti, The Holdovers

Best Actress

After the Golden Globe Awards, this category seemed like it was going to be a showdown all season between Emma Stone for Poor Things and Lily Gladstone for Killers of the Flower Moon. However, Stone beat Gladstone at Critics Choice, and then Stone won at BAFTA in a category Gladstone didn’t even receive a nomination in. 

There has been some chatter about how Gladstone could be this year’s Michelle Yeoh. Remember, last year Yeoh lost at Critics Choice and BAFTA and then went on to win at SAG and the Oscars for Everything Everywhere All at Once. We have learned in recent years that you can miss in a couple places and still take the SAG prize. But a few things hurt Gladstone, including her film losing steam the last few weeks, along with her quiet and reserved performance being put up against Stone’s giant bravura turn in Poor Things. Carey Mulligan for Maestro, Margot Robbie for Barbie, and Annette Bening for Nyad all give great performances but have almost no chance in a last-minute surprise. 

It’s not impossible for Gladstone to overtake Stone at SAG, but I am highly doubting it at this point, especially since Stone gives the bigger and more transformative performance in a role that has been winning everything thus far. 

FINAL PREDICTION: Emma Stone, Poor Things

Best Cast

So there are two ways you can look at the Best Cast category this year. You can go with the Best Picture frontrunner Oppenheimer, which is very likely to win here given the immense ensemble cast of tremendous actors and performances. Or you can go with a surprise win for American Fiction, Barbie, The Color Purple, or Killers of the Flower Moon

If there’s one major televised prize this season Oppenheimer could potentially lose, it’s this one. I don’t see The Color Purple or Killers of the Flower Moon beating it, but American Fiction and Barbie could absolutely do it. These are two of the finest ensemble casts of the year, in films that received multiple Oscar nominations. Although Oppenheimer has a good chance of winning this, something tells me SAG voters might turn against rewarding a film that’s mostly white men in suits and go with a more diverse cast. It’s not a confident pick by any means, but I think SAG in Best Cast is going to choose American Fiction

FINAL PREDICTION: American Fiction

The 30th Screen Actors Guild Awards airs live on Netflix on Saturday, February 24 at 5pm PT / 8pm EST. 

Movie Review: ‘Stopmotion’ is an Inspiration in Madness


Director: Robert Morgan
Writers: Robin King, Robert Morgan
Stars: Aisling Franciosi, Stella Gonet, Tom York

Synopsis: A stop-motion animator struggles to control her demons after the loss of her overbearing mother.


Robert Morgan’s uncanny mixed live action and animation feature, Stopmotion, belongs in the genre of obsessive artists being driven to madness. Stopmotion is reminiscent of Peter Strickland’s Berberian Sound Studio, Prano Bailey-Bond’s Censor, and Anne Oren’s Piaffe. Stopmotion also evokes Lucky McKee’s directorial debut May, the oeuvre of Jan Švankmajer, the Brothers Quay, David Lynch’s Eraserhead, Michael Powell’s Peeping Tom, and the work of Cristóbal León and Joaquín Cociña. 

From the moment humans realized they could metonymically exchange one symbol for another, there has been storytelling. From 4000 years BCE to shadows on Plato’s cave back through to stick marionettes. Even ancient societies had their effigies. 

Madness and the artist is recursively documented. Camille Claudel had her clay, bronze, and marble; along with a thirty year stay in Montdevergues Asylum. Richard Dadd his razor, fairies, and Broadmoor Hospital. Louis Wain his psychedelic cats and fifteen years in two asylums. Aloïse Corbaz her imagined love affair with Kaiser Wilhelm; reams of paper, found materials and horror vacui. Unica Zürn her Hexentexte [The Witches’ Texts] and automatic drawings.  Leonora Carrington her debutante hyena, mirror writing, and escape from an asylum via trickery.

Ella Blake (Aisling Franciosi) is a stop-motion model maker and animator living in a spartan and semi-sadistic situation with her famed animator mother, Suzanne (Stella Gonet). Suzanne’s hands are atrophying due to advanced arthritis and Ella is her “poppet” who does everything from creating her fuzzy Ray Harryhausen inspired stop-motion film to cutting up her sizeable steaks. Ella is Suzanne’s “meat puppet.” Whatever ideas or inspirations Ella might have are brushed away by Suzanne. She is simply required to be as still as the creations she is manipulating for Suzanne. “Don’t you breathe, don’t you move a muscle,” Suzanne demands of her exhausted child.

Living with Suzanne and devoting her life to the shrine of her mother’s talents has the asceticism of religious ritual. Ella is trapped. Even when she seeks out sensual and social pleasure with her boyfriend, Tom (Tom York) and his successful commercial animator sister, Polly (Therica Wilson-Read), Ella is somewhat absent. It’s as if Suzanne’s physical debilitation has been passed on to her daughter who is beginning to experience a moribund mental state.

Suzanne’s janus-faced behavior reaches a crucial point when her puppetry of Ella causes the latter to being to make an error. Suzanne has a stroke and Ella, for the first time, is free – but free to do what? She promises her unconscious hospital bed ridden mother that she will “finish her film.” Tom is trying to take care of Ella but finds her increasingly resentful of his ministrations. In her mind, Tom is a hobbyist – people like him and his music – but he’s a white-collar worker first. Ella is the real deal, an artist ready to fully immerse herself in her project. However, for so many years Ella has convinced herself that she is “just the hands,” and everyone else was the brains. “I have no voice,” she says.

Moving out of Stella’s home into a near empty decaying apartment block, Ella sets up her equipment. She recreates her mother’s Cyclops animation (highly symbolic writing from Morgan and co-scribe Robin King) but is listless. What happens next? A little girl (Caoillinn Springall) from a neighboring apartment takes a keen interest in Ella’s work. She also tells Ella that the story is boring. It needs something else. It needs a lot more. It needs Ella to dig into her fracturing psyche and pull something out which is visceral and dangerous.

Morgan makes no secret of the fact that Little Girl is Ella. The nagging and persistent voice who tells her, “You better take me seriously or I won’t tell you how the story ends.” If Ella does not cave into Little Girl’s increasingly abject demands then she will disappear and with her will go her only chance to finally speak. The fairy tale references fly thick and fast. A little girl lost in the woods; but it’s not a wolf who is chasing her. No, that’s too obvious. It’s something else – something almost indefinable. He is the Ash Man (James Swanton), and he stalks the bungalow where the lost girl has taken refuge. He will visit the little girl over three nights.

Ella’s apartment, the bungalow, and her memories of her mother’s house all blur into one space. Just as the puppet who represents the Little Girl of the story, and Ella herself, becomes more faceless and made up of rotting meat, animal carcasses, her own hair, her own body. Morgan isn’t interested in restrained – he’s interested in the atmosphere of perpetual unease. Cronenbergian body horror, meets Jodorowsky, meets the grimmest Hausmärchen.

Morgan said of his film, “[Stop-motion animation] is static yet moving; dead and alive at the same time. It’s the perfect metaphor through which to explore Ella’s struggle.” Ella has been used as a puppet; a marionette set dancing by Suzanne. She dreads that she is, at most, a ventriloquist’s dummy for other people. Her fantasy interactions with Suzanne are full of taunts, just as the interactions with her id creature. 

“We’re all mad here,” said the hatter to Alice. Yet, Alice was a clever and canny girl able to outwit the absurdity of Wonderland. When Ella goes through her own looking glass anyone who appears sane is the threat. Polly is happy to steal her concepts because she doesn’t believe Ella will ever use them. Polly’s “inspiration” comes from drugs. Tom is a numbing anti-depressant. The psychiatry is the enemy. Whatever egg-like orb the Ash Man wants Ella to ingest is a threat but is it also her swallowing herself alive? 

None of the brilliance of Robert Morgan’s work would be possible without his incredible models. Like Švankmajer and the Brothers Quay they are inspired by found objects. Ella patiently explains the skeleton of a stop-motion figure to Little Girl who demands more mortician’s wax. Little Girl insists on the same kind of perfection Suzanne did – but her perfection comes from the abhorrent. Dirt is déclassée, maggots are interesting, but going beyond putrefaction into artistic purity is the goal. The always stellar Aisling Franciosi uses her wide-eyed and often vacant stare to pierce the veil between seeing and being seen. She has observed life but has never properly partaken in it. Even the sex scenes with Tom echo that it is his mutable flesh which arouses her.

Rarely does a debut feature come out so fully embodied and realized. The score by Lola de la Mata fusing with the carnivalesque and grotesque production design by Felicity Hickson (who has notably worked with both Peter Strickland and Ben Wheatley). The eldritch but also neon gel soaked cinematography of Léo Hinstin. The costuming by frequent Strickland collaborator and designer Saffron Cullane (who also worked on Censor) and the creature effects by Dan Martin. 

Stopmotion is a psychodrama, a study of obsession, a look into repressed rage, and the burgeoning artistic psychopath. “Don’t be afraid. Great artists always put themselves into their work” Little Girl tells Ella. Perfection comes from abnegation of self and the embracing of it. Once a piece of art is made, does the maker just go back into a box until they are required to appear again? The artist tears themselves into little pieces trying to make something “real.” The horror vacui – the fear of empty spaces is Ella psychological struggle. Stopmotion makes Ella the puppet master and puppet. Magnificently deranged cinema – Robert Morgan is a virtuoso of the uncanny.

Grade: A

Movie Review (Berlinale 2024): ‘Cuckoo’ is Not What You Think


Director: Tilman Singer
Writer: Tilman Singer
Stars: Hunter Schafer, Jessica Henwick, Dan Stevens

Synopsis: A 17-year-old, American girl named Gretchen moves into a resort in the German Alps with her father and his new family. On top of the discomfort she feels being away from home and her conflicted relationship with her mute half-sister, Gretchen starts to feel that something isn’t right at the resort.


Writer-director Tilman Singer (2018’s Luz) wastes no time introducing us to the protagonists of his second feature. When Cuckoo begins, we’re placed in a car with 17-year-old Gretchen’s (Hunter Schafer) dysfunctional family – or rather, the family she’s left with, after she has had to leave the U.S. and move to a resort in the German Alps with her estranged father Luis (Marton Csokas), his current wife Beth (Jessica Henwick), and their mute 8-year-old daughter Alma (Mila Lieu). Soon, we meet the owner of said resort, the disquietingly cordial Mr. König (Dan Stevens), for whom Gretchen’s father is supposed to design a new set of buildings.

Luis and Beth feel a special connection with this place, since that’s where they had their honeymoon years before. As Luis, Beth, and Mr. König start to reminisce about those times, everything would appear to be normal on the surface. But there’s something we can’t quite shake off about this seemingly idyllic holiday destination, where time seems to move at a different pace and some of the guests experience eerie health issues that always involve the same, inexplicable symptoms. Gretchen’s family moves into one of the cabins, and Alma’s own health quickly deteriorates, which only makes Mr. König more interested in her, his apparent kindness becoming more disturbing with each visit.

Meanwhile, Mr. König suggests that Gretchen start working at the resort’s shop, where being around people might help cheer her up. But that’s when she realizes that something really isn’t right, as she soon starts experiencing visions and strange time loops, along with hearing noises she can’t explain. One night, as she’s cycling back to her cabin after work, she’s chased by a hooded figure that only she can see, and she realizes that her own life is at stake. Not only that, but she has never felt more alone, as no one seems to believe her and even her own mother isn’t answering her calls. And so, there’s nothing left to do for our resourceful hero but to take matters into her own hands and try to get to the bottom of this mystery on her own – until some unexpected help arrives.

Cuckoo is an incredibly well-crafted film. Cinematographer Paul Faltz’s stunning visuals have us immersed in its narrative from the very first scenes, conveying all the eeriness of the resort and the vastness of the nature around it in a disquietingly fascinating way. The score (Simon Waskow) and sound design (Jonas Lux) are just as effective at building a very specific atmosphere that has us both intrigued and disturbed, particularly when Gretchen and the other residents experience these time loops, ensuring our eyes are glued to the screen at all times.

As Cuckoo’s final girl, Hunter Schafer is phenomenal. She imbues her character with such personality that we are on her side at all times, delivering a horror heroine who might be confused and scared at times, but who’s never helpless despite the life threatening things that happen to her and her family. Opposite her, Dan Stevens is superb in a role that feels tailor made for him. This clearly disturbed resort owner is able to both get on our nerves and make us laugh hysterically, often at the same time, and Stevens inhabits him with apparent ease and impressive attention to detail. Even the way he pronounces Gretchen’s name is irritating, and his most unhinged scenes are hysterically funny.

Besides Schafer and Stevens, the entire cast is fantastic in a film where each character is made memorable not only by their quirks but also by their humanity. Mila Lieu impresses as the 8-year-old Alma, delivering one of the most emotional scenes of the movie with facial expressions alone. Sydney LaFaire plays an eccentric guest to perfection, while Marton Csokas and Kalin Morrow, whose roles are best left unspoiled, leave a mark despite the little screen time they have.

So what is it, exactly, that doesn’t work in Cuckoo? Sadly, it’s the story itself. Although the central mystery feels intriguing at first, when we uncover the truth, it becomes not only difficult to believe, but also a little ridiculous, given how many things about it make very little sense. Some characters’ motivations are thin at best, and a confrontation occurs at the end that feels so forced and filled with clichés that everyone was laughing at my screening; I’m sure that wasn’t the effect Singer intended it to have. It’s also the reason why, despite the amount of blood and some effective jump scares, Cuckoo isn’t scary in the slightest.

Yet, at the same time, the film is also quite the contradiction. While Cuckoo is  certainly not what Singer wanted it to be, since there are so many issues with its tone, narrative structure, and also the very premise itself, it’s also never not an enjoyable movie. It’s entertaining from start to finish, with gorgeous visuals, immersive sound design and great performances that keep us hooked, and a series of very strong moments that really deliver the emotion. Some are intentional and will surprise us, like the moment I found myself sobbing during a very moving scene; others – the more comedic ones – aren’t, but does it really matter in the end? 

To me, Cuckoo is neither a horror film nor a psychological thriller. It’s more of a film about sisterly love, and how finding your family can help you grow into the kind of person you want to be and ultimately overcome all the horror in your life. If you’re expecting a scary movie with an intriguing mystery at its center, you’ll probably be disappointed by Cuckoo. But if you go in with no expectations and simply let it work its magic, you’ll find a lot to enjoy in what is ultimately a coming of age story, and a film that might even become one of your go-to comfort movies in the future.

Grade: B-

Movie Review (Berlinale 2024): ‘The Outrun’ Needs a Faster Moving Story


Director: Nora Fingscheidt
Writers: Nora Fingscheidt, Amy Liptrot, Daisy Lewis
Stars: Saoirse Ronan, Saskia Reeves, Stephen Dillane

Synopsis: After living life on the edge in London, Rona attempts to come to terms with her troubled past. She returns to the wild beauty of Scotland’s Orkney Islands (where she grew up) hoping to heal. Adapted from Amy Liptrot’s bestselling memoir.


German filmmaker Nora Fingscheidt has had an up-and-down career since delivering her sophomore feature System Crasher (Systemsprenger) in 2019. Her stories focused on fragmented women going through difficult situations, whether the broken German care system in the aforementioned film or life after a prison sentence in The Unforgivable. That has been her “métier”,  or her standpoint characteristic in her storytelling language, so far in her young career, with less than a handful of features and a documentary to her name. Her latest one, The Outrun, is no different. Based on Scottish journalist Amy Liptrott’s 2017 memoir of the same name, this film tells the story of a young woman’s recovery from alcoholism as she heads back home. On paper, this perfectly fits with her current niche. 

With a talented star in Saoirse Ronan leading the cast, you have a reliable actor to lift the film to new heights. But Fingscheidt finds herself cutting too many corners narratively, culminating with a movie that isn’t as drawn out or piercing as it should be, considering the material. A part of The Outrun is set on the Orkney Islands, on the northeastern coast of Scotland. The islands contain their lore of some sort, with the deep blue sea and the “ghosts” surrounding the land playing an essential part in it. That mythos crosses over to the beauty of the landscape and all the minor things that compose it, whether the waves crashing on the cliffs or the barrenness of the greenish plains. 

These serve not only as a sanctuary for the film’s protagonist – a twenty-nine-year-old Scottish biologist named Rona (Ronan) – but also as a reflection of her psychological state. Her isolation and despondency are felt in each crowded area in London, where she spent more than a decade living there, as if the world is slowly separating from her side. But as soon as she returns to the Scottish islands, something in the smoothly brushing air helps her feel at ease. After indulging in a cataclysmic mix of drugs and alcohol in the streets of London during her studies (or lack thereof), Rona has decided to go back home to the Orkney Islands to heal her illness. The constant parties and bad decisions have left her completely broken inside; even her partner, Daynin (Paapa Essiedu), can’t take it anymore and deserts the relationship. 

He was the only person who could stand her. But it reached a point of no return, which motivated Rona to attend a rehab program. Upon her return to the place she holds dear, a few things hinder her stay. yet add to the cumulative effort to recover. We see her journey fragmentedly, with the story cutting through the past and present. The colors in Rona’s hair guide the audience to where we are in her story and addiction/recovery process. Her dye jobs represent her status, whether it is the aqua-blue when she’s on her worst days, the orange when she heads back home, or what lies between the two – the ups-and-downs of trying to seek help for her problems. 

Like all of this film’s storytelling devices, the use of hair colors on the protagonist is not original, per se. Immediately, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind comes to mind, as Kate Winslet’s character had different hairstyles and colors depending on her relationship with Jim Carrey’s Joel – representing the fading away of desire. Although she might not have come up with this trick, Fingscheidt makes good use of it; this element adds definition to the film’s structure. This is her most clever move regarding direction and storytelling in The Outrun. While it may not be much considering the heaviness of the topic being tackled, it stands out amidst the constant tropes from substance abuse or addiction dramas that are being thrown into the film’s baggy mix.

Sometimes, these types of films take a couple of dark turns to get into the light, or on other occasions, it is more of a heavily dramatic feat. This all depends on how the director pursues the topic and the character itself. There needs to be a space for the viewer to understand what drove the protagonist to this detrimental situation. Take the Andrea Riseborough-starring To Leslie as a recent example; that movie indulges in the tropes while still finding ways to intrigue and create empathy during its dramatic sensibilities. How the screenwriters and directors approach the character makes it feel like a new person rather than one of the few similar ones. However, in The Outrun, Nora Fingscheidt presents every single story beat in a hasty fashion and the most generic fashion imaginable. 

This rushed pacing is the root of the film’s problems; it makes each moment feel inessential. Fingscheidt tries to grasp everything that happens in the memoir the film is based on, yet forcefully and without the necessary pathos to move the viewer. There’s heart and care within the confines of the screenplay. But that doesn’t translate into organic emotions. Instead, you get somewhat manipulative sympathy – the director wants to pull your heartstrings vigorously rather than letting empathy fill the atmosphere. It is somewhat of a weird experience, as you sense there is an incomplete picture in Rona’s story, yet there’s the feeling that it was cut from the same cloth as something you have seen plenty of times before. 

On a positive note, Saoirse Ronan, who never seems to disappoint, delivers a good performance. Ronan is one of the most talented actresses of our time, consistently demonstrating new skills in each film she is cast in. And her role in The Outrun is yet another performance that cements her status in the vast Hollywood world. But then again, that isn’t enough to hold the film together, especially since the mishandling of the story itself holds it back. 

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘Land of Bad’ is a One Note Diversion


Director: William Eubank
Writers: David Frigerio, William Eubank
Stars: Liam Hemsworth, Russell Crowe, Luke Hemsworth

Synopsis: When an Army ODA team is ambushed, their only hope lies with an Air Force JTAC (Liam Hemsworth) and a drone pilot (Russell Crowe) to guide them through a brutal 48-hour battle for survival.


On the surface, Land of Bad, like many action movies inspired by military operations, is perfectly fine. The movie even generates some intense action and builds some genuine suspense. There’s a grittiness to William Eubank’s action diversion because it simply takes no prisoners in the electrifying first act. You wish they knew when to say enough is enough when it came to its sanctimonious final scenes and sensationalized, over-the-top third act.

The film follows Sergeant JJ “Playboy” Kinney (Liam Hemsworth), an Air Force TACP officer, on his Delta Force rescue mission. (One would think they could have found a small part of Chuck Norris, but we will let that go for another time.) He’s nervous, of course, but he’s joining a seasoned team to be by his side. The group leader is Master Sergeant John Sweet (Milo Ventimiglia), AKA “Sugar,” who offers a calming presence to the young officer.

Abel (Luke Hemsworth) and Bishop (Ricky Whittle) are rounding out the team. Their mission is to locate and extract a CIA agent abducted by terrorists in the Philippines. What separates Land of Bad from others is folding in another layer of modern warfare. Heading up that plot is Russell Crowe, who plays Captain Eddie “Reaper” Grimm, a man who can never retire because of a couple of ex-wives, a half-dozen kids, and one on the way.

That’s when Land of Bad thrives when Crowe begins to take over scenes. After an electrifying first act, Crowe’s Reaper develops a rapport with Hemsworth’s Playboy, and they have genuine chemistry. You know, the kind where you place your life in one man’s hands under traumatic circumstances? The action is intense. As much when Playboy is hiding under some brush in a river as it is dodging machine gun bullets during the lone rescue operation. 

This spectacular action scene is heightened by the addition of unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV) warfare. Other films, such as Good Killer or Eye in the Sky, deal with UAV usage’s moral and ethical dilemmas. Here, it’s pretty simple and cut-and-dry. The purpose is to protect and bring their boys home. It’s impossible to forget what a presence Crowe has on the screen. The type of magnetic performance he can coax out of the demands on which he sits the majority of his role is remarkable.

Land of Bad begins to drag itself down by a couple of things. First, while the film does explain the title, the villains are one-note characters, and you never get to understand their motivation. For that matter, why did they take over the area where the operative is being held? The first and third act scenes involving the Abu Sayyaf rebels are gratuitous. 

The script from Eubank and David Frigerio plants seeds meant to make this type of violence more tolerable. For example, if a soldier is executed in cold blood but he has already had a fatal stomach wound. When Playboy exacts revenge on one of his enemies, it’s fierce and over-the-top. I’m sure the scene was meant to be cathartic in a way for the audience, but the violence reaches jarring levels, to say the least. 

The other issue is that the film tries to portray military commanders and officers in the UAV bunker in Las Vegas as if they don’t care. I can tell you one thing: that would never happen. You don’t live, breathe, and sleep the lifestyle of surviving countless military operations and not take the job seriously. While you can appreciate Crowe’s character’s message for his fellow brothers and sisters in the military, this could have just been communicated through subtext or found another way to bring out that type of pride in service.


At the very least, that type of message brought out my admiration for Land of Bad. Also, the intensity of the first two acts did have me on the edge of my seat. While I have issues with the final 30 minutes, the resolution is eye-rolling; there’s enough to like here, especially Crowe’s turn, as a mild action diversion with its heart in the right place for a mild recommendation.

 

Grade: C+

The Wages Of Fear: A Nitro-Filled Retrospective

This should have been written last year to mark seventy years since its release, but even then, rewatching this all-time classic thriller stands out highly as one of the best films of the 1950s from any country. Henri-Georges Clouzot, France’s own Hitchcock, had made a solid career, up to this point, with his daring portraits of French society, despite his temporary suspension from filmmaking because he worked within the Nazi-occupied system. He had directed six films up to the time of making The Wages of Fear, marrying Brazilian actress Vera Gibson-Armando, who would become central to his career. It was on his return from Brazil when Clouzot was handed a newly published novel set in Latin America that would make him internationally renowned. 

In 1949, author Georges Arnaud published his novel, “The Wages of Fear, after his trip through South America exposed him to American oil companies in the area making their presence well-known while the towns nearby remained impoverished. It became a bestseller in France and Arnaud wanted Clouzot to make it into a movie, which he accepted. Clouzot was aware of the situation in which the wealth gap was widely noticed as governments neglected the social welfare of their poorest to allow Americans to reap in the profits. Serving as a way to provide social criticism to American policies, Clouzot agreed to take on the project.

While the film is set in an unnamed country (supposedly, it is either Venezuela or Guatemala), the film is primarily spoken in French with some scenes in Spanish and English. Reflecting that, Clouzot hired actors from different countries. Yves Montand, then a popular singer, was cast as Mario, the more masculine protagonist. Jean Gabin was offered the role of the cowardly Jo, but turned it down, so Charles Vanel, on a career downturn, was cast. German Peter van Eyck and Italian Folco Lulli were cast as Bimba and Luigi, respectively, and Vera was cast by her husband as Linda, the local girlfriend of Mario. For the American foreman, Clouzot went to William Tubbs, notable for playing American roles in Europe. 

Due to the concern of costs and Yves Montand’s refusal to shoot on location in Central America, sets were made in the south of France where its rocky terrain stood in for the treacherous drives. Yet, production during the shoot was troubled and costs ballooned, resulting in numerous delays. Weather-wise, it was cool during the shoot, making it harder to reflect the intensity of heat the setting called for, and an unusual amount of rain made transporting the trucks much more difficult. One rainstorm was so strong, a river was flooded, which killed two engineers from the French Army who were building a bridge for the movie. Extras in the fictional town, complaining of really low pay, refused to participate unless they were paid more. 

While the film struggled on, the story Clouzot sought to make took shape. The first act is all about these characters stuck in a town they went to find work in, only to find nothing and have no money to leave. So, they stand around and wait for a chance to make their escape anyhow. That opportunitycomes when an explosion at an oil rig forces the American foreman of the Southern Oil Company to hire non-unionized employees to try a suicide mission by driving two trucks full of nitroglycerine to the site. It is a highly volatile substance and driving through harsh terrain with it just feels like dancing on a highwire. One slight slip and it is goodbye. People sign up for it anyway as the money involved is their ticket out of hell.  

Mario, Bimba, and Luigi are hired, as well as a fourth person, but when that person doesn’t show up the night of the drive, Jo, who has been hanging around suspiciously, gets the job. In two trucks, the foursome begin their drive with the suspense already beginning. There is no score, which heightens the tension. Throughout the second act, these four find themselves waiting for their truck to explode with this dangerous substance behind them going through every roadblock on their way. There isn’t a wasted beat as the separate pairs go on through trials of nerves which just takes your breath away. Driving through a fast stretch of road and nearly colliding, crossing a rotten section of deck while making tight turns, and a large boulder in the way are just some of the obstacles that test them all.

When The Wages of Fear was released in Europe, it made Clouzot the biggest director in the world as it won the top prizes at Berlinale and Cannes, the only film to do so while it was allowed. Despite the costs, it was a box office hit that allowed the production to make a profit regardless. In the United States, however, the reviews were hostile. The anti-American elements such as the depiction of their obvious exploitation forced cuts to the film for release. One review of the film from Life Magazine called the film “one of the most evil ever made.” However, the great Bosley Crowther from The New York Times wrote, “The excitement derives entirely from the awareness of nitroglycerine and the gingerly, breathless handling of it. You sit there waiting for the theatre to explode.”

It would not be until 1991 when the fully restored version, as Clouzot intended, was shown in the U.S. William Friedkin directed a remake, Sorcerer, in 1977, but the original version remains the ultimate suspenseful picture that literally drives on the smallest bumps between salvation and damnation. It is a story about courage, desperation, and defying death with their machismo, all of which are tested. Into today, the influence of Wages of Fear remains seen all over suspenseful pictures but none can surpass Clouzot’s masterpiece. The fear of nitroglycerine under us seems real when driving any highway right after first watch.  

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Movie Review: ‘Dune: Part Two’ is a Sophisticated Sci-Fi Masterpiece


Director: Denis Villenueve
Writers: Denis VIllenueve, Jon Spaihts, Frank Herbert
Stars: Timothée Chalamet, Zendaya, Rebecca Ferguson

Synopsis: Paul Atreides unites with Chani and the Fremen while seeking revenge against the conspirators who destroyed his family.


Nerds unite! Hollywood has turned to one filmmaker to bring his brand of smart, sleek, and ultra-cool science fiction epic storytelling from Frank Herbert into all of its glory. That man is Denis Villeneuve. Dune: Part 2 continues the French Canadian maestro’s perfect streak of creating great films and he still never made a bad one. (Yes, all of us Enemy stans stand up and cheer!) Villeneuve’s follow-up to the opening chapter has complex characters, an indescribable mood, visually captivating aesthetic, intense atmosphere, and meticulous attention to detail that transport the viewer to another time and place.

When I saw the first chapter of Villeneuve’s Dune, it took time to wrap my head around it because I had never read the book and had not fully appreciated the sheer accomplishment of bringing Dune to life. It was a necessary first step to something better. And boy, Villeneuve delivers an epic film with jaw-dropping action sequences, visually stunning images, and the type of world building that most can only dream of. 

In short, Dune: Part 2 takes its place with The Godfather Part 2, Empire Strikes Back, and The Dark Knight as one of the greatest sequels ever made. It’s the science fiction epic that will blow you away and is the one we have been waiting for.

In other words, Mr. Villeneuve, I will love you as long as I breathe. 

Villeneuve picks up where the first film left off. Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet) forms an alliance with the Fremen, along with his mother, Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson), after Paul wins his way in by winning a fight to the death against one of Stilgar’s (Javier Bardem) men, Jamis. Along with—literally—the woman of his dreams, Chani (Zendaya), Paul begins to develop a plan to avenge the deaths of his father, Leto (Oscar Isaac), and his mentor, Duncan (Jason Momoa). Paul and Jessica, under Stilgar’s protection, assimilate into the Fremen society. As Paul says, half of them think he’s their next Messiah. The others feel he must be a false prophet who must pay for Jamis’s death.

The story’s villains remain, but they have brought in some friends. Glossu Rabban (Dave Bautista) angers the Baron (Stellan Skarsgård) because he can’t stop the band of uprisings and continues gathering the planet’s most valuable asset, spice. The Baron’s nephew, Feyd-Rautha (Austin Butler), is being groomed as his replacement and calls upon him to right the ship. Watching closely is the Emperor (Christopher Walken) and his daughter, Princess Irulan (Florence Pugh), who has a surprising stake in the outcome.

Dune: Part 2’s script, by Villeneuve and Jon Spaihts, crafts an immersive and detailed environment that brings an extraordinary world to life. The world-building enhances the expansive and rich narrative by drawing upon source material that feels authentic and unique. The second installment is essentially an epic war film that pays extra special attention to the romance between Chalamet’s Paul and Zendaya’s Chani. I would love to say their love affair creates more heat on the screen than Arrakis at high noon on a scorching summer day. However, the romance is gentle and slowly develops into something sweetly innocent and curious.

These elements make Dune: Part 2 a well-rounded film that morphs into a sweeping saga with a grand feel, giving the experiences an emotional depth that leaves an impact. This is especially evident as the film slowly becomes more of a political chess match in its third act. That’s where Chalamet begins to grow up in front of our eyes and delivers a rousing speech that we didn’t know he had in him. He provides a powerful and authoritative performance and, dare I say, a James Dean rebellious quality that’s magnetic. This is Chalamet’s graduation day, and he can be cast in any role from this point forward.

We want to avoid specific spoilers, but there are moments and scenes in Dune: Part 2 that are so purely cinematic they will be watched and talked about for generations. For example, you have Paul riding his first worm in front of the Fremen through the scorching expansive desert sand. The awe-inspiring House of Harkonnen gladiator matches under the black sun. And, of course, that spectacular opening wave at the Battle of Arrakeen. These scenes will be known as classics that parents will show their children, as many do with Raiders of the Lost Ark; they are that good.

Dune: Part 2 is the year’s first great film, and you won’t see a bigger or better blockbuster all year. From the stunning sun-burnt visuals from cinematographer Greig Fraser and Hans Zimmer’s heart-pumping alternative-operatic powerful score to the embarrassment of riches when it comes to the deep bench of actors, Dune: Part 2 is a sophisticated sci-fi masterpiece, an instant classic, and an unprecedented sequel. 

Again, Mr. Villeneuve, I will love you as long as I breathe.

 

Grade: A+

Movie Review: ‘Io Capitano’ is a Conventional, But Moving Drama


Director: Matteo Garrone
Writers: Matteo Garrone, Massimo Gaudioso, Massimo Ceccherini, Andrea Tagliaferri
Stars: Seydou Sarr, Moustapha Fall, Hichem Yacoubi

Synopsis: A Homeric fairy tale that tells the adventurous journey of two young boys, Seydou and Moussa, who leave Dakar to reach Europe.


Io Capitano, the Best International Film-nominated entry from Italy, is finally out in cinemas. Directed by Pinocchio’s Matteo Garrone, the story showcases a harrowing journey as best friends Seydou (Seydou Sarr) and Moussa (Moustapha Fall) leave their stable life in Dakar to chase their dreams in Italy. In one of the most poignant sequences of the film, Seydou’s mother warns him that this dream is futile and he will only put himself in danger if he chooses to go through with his desire to leave Senegal. 

Of course, Seydou and Moussa do not listen to her – or the organizer’s – advice that Europe is nowhere near as magnificent as the films portray it. Not only that, but the journey itself is treacherous, which entails crossing the border with an illegal passport and walking through the Sahara desert to reach Tripoli. If Seydou and Moussa don’t know what they’re doing and don’t have trustworthy connections, a fate worse than death itself may await them. 

However, no matter the dissuasions, the two embark on the long journey to reach the coast of Malta, which the film depicts in a distressing fashion. Predictably, the trip doesn’t go as planned, and the two are eventually separated when the Libyan police catch them. Seydou is sent to an illegal prison run by the mafia and is immediately told by a French intermediary that if he does not give away his phone number, he will be tortured. He does not and suffers greatly as a result. 

Garrone doesn’t hold anything back and shows how difficult the journey for Seydou is, both mentally and physically. As he attempts to rest in his cell, petrified by the pain that’s been inflicted upon him, he imagines himself sending a message to his mother in Dakar to comfort him. This sequence and another in which a woman floats in the sky are Io Capitano at its most lyrical and devastating. Seydou wants his trip to be an idyllic journey to a better world, floating in the sky as they reach Heaven, but it puts him in purgatory, where Heaven is right here, but gets drawn into Hell. 

This visual representation doesn’t happen as often as it should, but it almost doesn’t matter since cinematographer Paolo Carnera crafts a series of striking images that will stay with you long after the credits have ended. It’s almost too disturbing to describe here, but the raw power of Io Capitano mostly lies in its evocative and powerful visuals, which fully represent just how dangerous Seydou and Moussa’s journey is. 

As Seydou and Moussa, both Sarr and Fall are as equally heartbreaking as they are inspiring in their respective turns. At first, Moussa is the big dreamer of the two, convincing Seydou that this is the right thing to do after he experiences second thoughts. But through it all, Seydou will eventually reveal himself as the more courageous and heroic of the two, particularly when he is tasked to transport passengers from Tripoli to Malta on a ship, not knowing how to steer it. One of the film’s most impactful scenes, in which he pleads to a coast guard officer for help, deftly shows Seydou’s transformation from a timid – and scared – boy to a captain who will stop at nothing before everyone is brought to Italy safely. It also helps audiences attach themselves easily to the two characters as their naturalistic approach to acting greatly informs how we perceive the two as they overcome the odds to reach Italy. 

But Garrone and his co-screenwriters Massimo Gaudioso, Massimo Ceccherini, and Andrea Tagliaferi take very few storytelling risks in depicting Seydou and Moussa’s journey. In fact, the story trods the most obvious clichés instead of choosing a more psychologically active depiction of Seydou’s moral quest to find Moussa. Perhaps the filmmakers wanted to choose an easy route for the film to be a crowd-pleaser, but it feels almost too crowd-pleasing, with every single storytelling beat seen a mile away. When Seydou’s mother warns them of the journey, we know exactly what will happen. It also doesn’t help that the film was released a few months after Rajkumar Hirani and Shah Rukh Khan quasi-treated the same story with Dunki, which had a far less conventional – and more engaging – story (but it didn’t have the striking images produced by Carnera). 

The only time Garrone subverts expectations is in its ending, which doesn’t give a “proper” conclusion to Seydou and Moussa’s story. Audiences are left to interpret what they think happened, which may be the least “crowd-pleasing” moment of the whole affair. I feel there was far more to tell in their journey, which seemed like it was just beginning. Perhaps that’s it. Their story is just beginning, and we all witnessed how they created a new chapter in their lives by overcoming adversity and never giving up, no matter the mental and physical cost. 

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Seagrass’ Shows an Intimate Understanding of Family


Director: Meredith Hama-Brown
Writers: Meredith Hama-Brown
Stars: Ally Maki, Luke Roberts, Nyha Huang Breitkreuz

Synopsis: A Japanese-Canadian woman grapples with the death of her mother as she brings her family to a retreat. When her relationship with her husband begins to affect the children’s emotional security, the family is changed forever.


You’ll immediately notice Seagrasss ominous mood, even a sense of impending doom, very similar to the 2021 film The Humans, when it comes to Meredith Hama-Brown’s evocative family drama. The Canadian filmmakers never let the viewer shake off the anxiety of the future and the depression of holding onto the past, leading to a metaphorical dark cloud hovering over this family of four. Or, in this case, a dark cave that represents the distress or uneasiness of the future for a family in crisis.

Hama-Brown’s Seagrass script focuses its story on Judith (Shortcoming’s Ally Maki), a Japanese-Canadian woman still in mourning over the loss of her mother. Judith’s mom passed away five months prior. The ordeal has brought on an existential crisis within her. She has become withdrawn, and her mind is preoccupied with what the loss represents in her own life. Judith and her family attend a relationship retreat in order to deal with the issue.

This involves her husband, Steve (Game of Thrones’s Luke Roberts), a man who gives the mild impression that his patience is wearing thin over his wife’s loss. There is a scene in group therapy where Judith tells everyone her mother died, and then he quickly adds the timeframe. This makes Steve a complex character that’s fascinating to watch as the story unfolds. He seems like a doting husband and caring father, but as he realizes his wife’s unhappiness, his true colors begin to show.

Steve becomes jealous of Judith’s attention to a man in the group (Joy Ride’s Chris Pang), a man of Chinese Australian ancestry and they share a bond between their Asian heritage. He attends the retreat with his wife (Sarah Gadon), and this triggers some issues for Judith, one of race and intercultural marriage. Steve’s jealousy brings out subtle to overt racial commentary, not just about Pang’s Pat—which can’t be labeled as understandable just because he’s jealous—but of Judith’s own family.

The situation is alarming because of Steve’s own children’s heritage. Stephanie (Nyha Huang Breitkreuz) and Emmy (Remy Marthaller) have to deal with the racist comments of their peers, as well. While the latter doesn’t realize the song she repeats and the nasty racial undertones, Stephanie deals with girls her own age, talking about how she “looks normal.” We know these terms aren’t inherent. These children are learning them, most likely inside their own homes.

What makes Seagrass so fascinating is how it is grown organically within Meredith Hama-Brown’s script. Everything we discuss comes up naturally, never overtly, and even with the subtle delivery by the flawless cast, there are gut punches because you can see the harm it begins to take on the nuclear family. And Steve is not alone because Judith begins to displace her unhappiness onto her children with a quick-trigger temper that can have lasting effects for years. 

Seagrass is a stoic film of hidden layers. Judith, to an untrained eye, is suffering the type of bereavement that is often felt by the offspring of first-generation immigrants. Maki’s character has guilt over the legacy of sacrifice her parents made to make a better life for their children. Steve displaces his feelings over his crumbling marriage onto a supportive stranger. This trickles down to their children and begins to affect the family as a whole.

Hama-Brown has an intimate understanding of family dynamics. The youngest child is clearly left vulnerable because she is dependent on her parents and big sister. Also, the oldest child could be classified as “acting out.” However, the Canadian filmmaker focuses on the interactions and dynamics with the family members as part of larger issues connected to the family system as a whole. 

The writing is excellent here because you learn about each individual character as Hama-Brown’s script begins to triangulate between three characters at a time, dealing with profound issues of mental health, grief, transitions, and cultural identity. Much of that is communicated through Norm Li’s cinematography. Please take notice of the ball Emmy is obsessed with as it floats, always staying above water. Then, you’ll take in transition scenes where the camera takes on a fluid, unconventional motion. 

For example, there is a scene in Seagrass where Stephanie falls asleep on top of a cabin with a blue roof. The camera bobs up and down, giving the viewer the illusion of a child floating in the sea. Evoking the precarious situation the children are in. Then you have scenes of rough waters, symbolizing all the angry and sad feelings that blind you from your own reflection and make you see yourself clearly

This all ties into the final scenes and highlights two stellar performances in Seagrass. Maki’s unwinding and letting go are phenomenal and the best performance of her career. Roberts’s turn as a husband watching his family life slip away is something to be held. This all leads to a devastating scene of cruel honesty and heartbreaking forgiveness. 

It’s stunning, really, and that backs up the point of the failure in communication that has built up so much ill will that’s finally released. Seagrass, on its own terms, is a profound experience. 

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Ordinary Angels’ is Surprisingly Compelling and Balanced


Director: Jon Gunn
Writers: Kelly Fremon Craig, Meg Tilly
Stars: Alan Ritchson, Hilary Swank, Amy Acker

Synopsis: Inspired by the incredible true story of a hairdresser who single-handedly rallies an entire community to help a widowed father save the life of his critically ill young daughter.


Jon Gunn is the director behind Ordinary Angels. He’s a filmmaker who cut his teeth writing scripts for the Erwin Brothers, filmmakers who focus on Christian cinema. Gunn is cut from that same cloth, writing the scripts for last year’s Jesus Revolution and the underrated American Underdog. Now, he steps behind the camera for another incredible (Christian) true story that manipulates you to its heart’s content. 

However, it’s hard not to get caught up in the heartwarming glow of Ordinary Angels’s uplifting story about a community coming together to save a child. The result is a film that builds up enough suspense and goodwill to ignore some obvious genre tropes. Especially when you add two performances from stars Hilary Swank and Reacher’s Alan Ritchson, this is the artist’s version of cinematic comfort food.

Gunn’s film tells the story of Ed Schmitt (Ritchson), a father who lost his wife Theresa (Amy Acker) to complications from childbirth. He has two little girls, Ashley (Skyler Hughes) and Michelle (Emily Mitchell). It’s been four years since Ed lost Theresa and Michelle was born. Now, she has been developing consistent infections. The physicians tell Ed the lousy news during medical evaluations and tests. Michelle’s liver is failing, and eventually, she’ll need a transplant.

We then get a healthy (and surprisingly accurate) assessment of the American healthcare system. Ed works in construction and has no health insurance. He owes a little over $400,000 in medical bills just for his wife’s pregnancy and death. Through a news story looking to help provide clarity for Michelle’s upcoming medical bills, a woman with a drinking problem, Sharon Stevens (Swank), sets her mind to help through grit, determination, and a clear violation of boundaries.

Ordinary Angels has an impressive pedigree, particularly from the writing team. The script was written by Kelly Fremon Craig, the scribe behind the cult hit Edge of Seventeen and one of last year’s critically acclaimed darlings, Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret. The other writer is a novelist and an Academy Award nominee for her work in Agnes of God, Meg Tilly, often mistaken for her sister Jennifer.

Their script is a good one that combines the subtle themes of the genre with a heartfelt story that’s uplifting and builds some genuine suspense. Particularly in the final act, if anyone has been caught in a snowstorm with a whiteout, it is one of the most nerve-racking experiences you’ll ever have. Fold in the look of a pale four-year-old who has days to live, racing to the hospital for a life-saving transplant can be overwhelming.

Now, the storytelling is relatively generic. Swank seems to channel her inner Leigh Anne Tuohy from The Blind Side. You can also appreciate the acknowledgment that she has replaced her addiction to alcohol by keeping her mind busy obsessing over him and the Schmitt family. Swank’s take on Sharon is impulsive and sensation-seeking, but she always has her heart in the right place.

Ritchson replaces his deadpan comic delivery and relentless action-packed persona from Reacher with a homespun version of a man who is simple and unpretentious. The script has him not questioning a higher authority but simply not partaking since his wife’s death, which is a refreshing take on a faith-based film subplot.

The end of Ordinary Angels is over-the-top with its sticky, sweet sentimentality. However, if you are ever going to have that type of scene, can’t we all agree it should be racing to get a four-year-old safely to the hospital for a life-saving transplant during the 1994 North American cold wave, which was the worst of its kind since 1934? 

Gunn’s film is overdone at times, but it is compelling and has a fair balance of genre themes with an inspirational quality that had me caught up in its rousing story.

Grade: B-

Movie Review (Berlinale 2024): ‘The Visitor’ Provokes Repeatedly


Director: Bruce La Bruce
Writers: Alex Babboni, Victor Fraga, Bruce La Bruce
Stars: Bishop Black, Macklin Kowal, Amy Kingsmill

Synopsis: A refugee is among multiple identical men appearing around London. Masked as a homeless man, he visits the home of an upper class family and befriended by their maid. He intimately interacts with each catalyzing their spiritual awakenings.


Provocateur Bruce La Bruce reimagines Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1968 masterpiece to tackle sexual liberation and the immigrant life with the very explicit The Visitor, a pornographic picture that is as carnal as it is politically charged. And while the stylish, valiant swings of the Canadian filmmaker can be appreciated, the film grows a bit tiresome upon its 100-minute runtime. 

Pier Paolo Pasolini is one of the most influential filmmakers of all time. One of the most prominent and unparalleled figures in European cinema and literature after the Second World War, he managed to contrast socio-political arguments with graphic yet expository examinations of sexual taboos. Pasolini was more than brave; he was dauntlessly adventurous. Pasolini never held back in his critiques – whether it was the church, government, right, or left – because of his versatility and subversiveness. All of his features are great examples of how he deconstructs and exposes the norms of the time. The film most people attach to Pasolini’s name is his last one, the intentionally shocking and provocative Salò, or the 120 Days of Sodom. But the one that filmmakers worldwide have tended to return to in recent memory is his 1968 masterpiece, Theorem

In Theorem, a nameless man infiltrates the home of a bourgeois family, changing their lives for good through sex and agony. Lately, we have seen the likes of Christian Petzold (Afire), Emerald Fennell (Saltburn), Yorgos Lanthimos (The Killing of a Sacred Deer), and Alex van Warmerdam (Borgman) making their interpretations of the aforementioned film, all having their unique sway in the narrative as it develops – for better or worse in some cases.  It is fascinating to see how this story that Pasolini created a couple of decades ago has been revisited and reconceived in different ways. These directors who are inspired by it seek out various elements from the film to implement in their narratives. They clearly have found ways to separate themselves from the film and create something fresh out of the notions cemented by the Italian filmmaker. 

Nevertheless, Canadian filmmaker and provocateur Bruce La Bruce has decided that he will be the one to cross the lines of what we could think of when reimagining Pasolini’s film. If you thought you had seen everything regarding provocation and explicitness based on Theorem and were shocked by the bathtub and graveyard scenes in Saltburn, then you aren’t ready for what La Bruce has in store. As we are accustomed to seeing in his filmography, La Bruce takes a more explicit and provocative, yet jocular, route to take jabs at the socio-political issues of today. Instead of making a dramatic feature, he makes a pornographic one. Titled after the unnamed man who will change the lives of a conservative family, The Visitor bathes and basks in the blood, sweat, and semen interspersed throughout the film’s full-frontal sequences. 

In La Bruce’s reimagining, the visitor in question is a refugee (Bishop Black) who washes up in the River Thames inside of a suitcase. His introduction is backed by Enoch Powell’s “Rivers of Blood” speech from 1968 (coincidentally, in the same years as Theorem was released to the public), in which he spoke about his opposition to mass immigration into Britain. As the speech continues, we see plenty of other men emerging from suitcases, all emerging naked and with a sense of liberation. This intertwining between the arrivals and the speech makes the viewer immediately identify the themes The Visitor will tackle: xenophobia, sexual liberation, and immigration. And just like that, we know this is Bruce La Bruce’s picture, where religion and politics collide with sex and his usual strange, yet compelling mythos on the horizon. 

Everything feels highly distanced, from the campy dialogue to the scene-by-scene provocations. Yet, as the film runs its course, you begin to feel entranced by it all, even if it is rather disturbing. The wandering refugee comes across an upper-class family – the bourgeois personified who separate themselves from the world’s hardships in the confines of their mansion. At first, the visitor is invited to stay in their household as an employee. But sooner rather than later, the stranger ends up seducing each member of the family – The Father (Macklin Kowal), The Mother (Amy Kingsmill), The Daughter (Ray Filar), and The Son (Kurtis Lincoln) – in different means, each one more explicit, radical, and indulgent than the other. 

For this family to redefine themselves in their true natures, they must embrace him in all means possible. But when he says it is time for him to go, they are left shells of themselves. Each family member finds different ways to fill the void of his disappearance. Some approach it through art, others via adultery. But it results in a sexual and incorporeal metamorphosis. Sensibility and temerity combine to let the gestures and physicality of each performance speak more than the select words in the screenplay. The Visitor is concocted in the same vein as a pornographic film, purposefully clunky campy dialogue and all. However, La Bruce’s addition of a political angle to each sequence makes the film worth more than the basic label it would be defined with when it is released formally. 

The provocateur has been doing projects like this since the 90s with Hustle White and No Skin Off My Ass. But it is inevitable to think about Gaspar Noé and his 2015 feature Love throughout The Visitor. There seems to be a resemblance between the two outside of the unsimulated sex scenes and the strobing neon lights that both filmmakers are excessively accustomed to using. Both use the appearance and embrace of a stranger to amplify their narrative. However, the difference is that Love is self-indulgent to such a degree that you can’t feel the passion or devotion inside the crumbling world of the characters; meanwhile, The Visitor’s indulgence comes with a sense of purpose. That doesn’t mean that every single scene has a complete pass; there are plenty of moments that feel added just for the sake of the shock factor rather than adding to the dramatic backbone covered by its eroticism. 

In contrast, there are overly thought-out societal critiques that feel too ridiculous to take seriously, like climaxing in a gigantic shopping bag that serves as a dig at consumerists. La Bruce adds the elements that make his films interesting as well as equally muddled – mainly the slogans that pop up from time to time in the sex scenes (for example: “Open Borders, Open Legs”, “Oh Bondage! Up Yours!”). Nevertheless, his vision is quite revolutionary and utterly valiant. His latest work is unlike most films we see in the vast cinematic landscape of today. Bruce La Bruce’s latest is one that I appreciate more than I like, as I believe it goes down a repetitive path between each scene-to-scene transition. But the consistent effort and importance are felt entirely.

Grade: C+

Movie Review: ‘Drugstore June’ is a Familiar Comfort


Director: Nicholaus Goossen
Writers: Nicholaus Goossen, Esther Povitsky
Stars: Esther Povitsky, Bobby Lee, Beverly D’Angelo

Synopsis: Esther Povitsky stars as the titular June, a wannabe influencer juggling multiple issues: her parents pressuring her to move out, her ex-boyfriend accusing her of stalking, and two detectives who suspect she’s involved in the robbery of the local pharmacy.


It has been nearly two decades since Nicholaus Goossen directed the critically reviled, yet underground stoner favorite, Grandma’s Boy. The Happy Madison production may not have ignited the world, but it secured his place in Adam Sandler’s sphere of friends – not a bad place to be based on anecdotal stories. The intervening years have been devoted primarily to television, music videos, and stand-up specials, but Drugstore June marks his return to feature comedy directing. Together with Esther Povitsky, whose latest stand-up special he directed, the pair have created a comedy that feels spiritually in line with Happy Madison productions. The instinct to gather all of your funniest friends and put them into a movie is a good one, even if the final product may not showcase their true depth of talent. Drugstore June is far from a perfect comedy, but it teems with a creative energy that makes it a mostly enjoyable watch. 

June (Povitsky) is a product of growing up with the internet. She is chronically online, attempting to build up a following that we can only assume is a pittance at most. She believes that people want to watch her from the moment she wakes up as she talks about her recurring dreams about her ex-boyfriend (a perfectly utilized Haley Joel Osment). She is completely wrapped up in her own experiences to the detriment of herself and those around her. Despite being confident enough to want to broadcast her entire life, she is also deeply insecure. She is constantly seeking validation from others and soliciting ways to improve herself. The latter is most hilariously demonstrated in what we gather is a frequent visit to the doctor (a cameo from Executive Producer Bill Burr) about constipation that turns into a consultation about plastic surgery.

Under different circumstances, June could very well be insufferable. Yet, thanks to the inherent charms of Esther Povitsky, she somehow always keeps the audience rooting for her emotional breakthrough. Povitsky has quietly been stealing the show for the past several years as sweet vessels of nervous energy in shows such as Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and Dollface. The character of June actually feels like an exaggerated version of her Alone Together character or her stand-up persona – themselves a heightened version of Povitsky herself. Beneath the cherubic facade lies the soul of a troll – absolutely meant as a term of endearment. June is the type of person who will go to great lengths to do nothing. She is the type of person who will weep over a freezer full of ice cream being melted over her place of employment being robbed. Somehow, she can even make stalking seem somewhat innocuous. 

The film does have a firm plot in the aforementioned robbery of the pharmacy at which she works, as June is positioned as a suspect and takes it upon herself to investigate who actually committed the crime. This is merely a smokescreen for the character to cross paths with a cadre of amusing personalities. If you are a fan of the L.A. comedy scene or know the differences between the All Things Comedy, Earwolf, and Headgum podcasting networks; this is probably the movie for you. Jackie Sandler is a hilarious standout alongside Al Madrigal as the bewildered police detectives who cannot believe they are questioning a person with such little sense of self-preservation. Beloved comedians such as Nick Rutherford, Ms. Pat, and Jon Gabrus all make brief appearances, but they rarely land as big of a laugh as they do on stage. Surprisingly, it is rapper Bhad Bhabie (of “Cash me outside” fame) who lands some of the biggest laughs of the movie as a weed dispensary employee. 

Among the untested bit performances that litter the film, it is almost comforting to have someone like Bobby Lee (Mad TV) anchoring the story in a more substantial way as June’s very forgiving boss. Lee has a past of outrageous antics in real life, but the gentle approach he brings to this character is refreshing and aids somewhat in June realizing her potential. Beverly D’Angelo (the Vacation franchise) and James Remar (Dexter) lend some gravitas as June’s parents, who, as June says herself, have set a very confusing example for how she approaches life and relationships. The evolution of her relationship with her family, including her brother in an uproarious turn from Brandon Wardell (I Think You Should Leave with Tim Robinson), is the complementary piece of the puzzle alongside her learned experiences that push the movie towards some sort of thematic excavation. For as unserious as the movie is for most of the runtime, it does have a heart. 

Drugstore June is a somewhat frustrating experience. For as passingly enjoyable as the film is, it should be so much better considering the talent at its disposal. There are enough laughs to make it worthy of your time, but not so much that you will be dying to recommend or revisit it anytime soon. If you have no preexisting affection for any of the talent involved, you will likely be in even more dire straits. Nicholaus Goossen and Esther Povitsky have created a story that is comforting in its familiarity yet, like its main character, not ambitious enough to push the genre forward. It is a fine effort from everyone involved, but coasting on charisma will not work in future efforts. 

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Here’ Lives Life on Life’s Terms


Director: Bas Devos
Writer: Bas Devos
Stars: Stefan Gota, Liyo Gong

Synopsis: A Romanian construction worker living in Brussels crosses paths with a Belgian-Chinese doctorate student of moss, just before the former is about to move back home.


Films of 90 minutes or less, like the ones Belgian filmmaker Bas Devos seems to have a penchant for, are often reduced to descriptors like “small”, or “muted”, or “restrained”. And though these sorts of descriptions can feasibly apply to most of his work, including Devos’ latest 82-minute wonder, Here, his minimalistic approach to storytelling isn’t necessarily what defines his filmmaking. Rather, it’s what makes it sing, what makes it stand out as profound and draped with feeling, something rarely found at the movies these days. 

We start Here with Stefan (Stefan Gota), a Romanian man working on construction sites in Brussels; this is where the film takes place, though the things it’s most curious about lie beyond the city’s borders. Stefan is about to head home for summer break — back to the familiar — when he encounters another visitor, of sorts, named Shuxiu (Liyo Gong), a doctoral student of bryology, specifically the moss growing in and around Brussels. As Stefan’s urge to return home intensifies, he empties the contents of his fridge to make soup for those he has met while in Brussels as a sort of farewell; Shuxiu, meanwhile, seems to be embracing her newfound home, letting it become part of her as opposed to a piece of her past.

At first, their stories are unfolding and on parallel paths, though they are heading in different directions: One away from the foreignness; the other, further into it. It’s notable that the film starts inside one of the buildings Stefan has been working on, this physical representation of the birth of something bigger, something unknown, perhaps perpetually unknowable. But as we venture further away from the rumbling city, the real birth occurs. Of course, it’s in nature, where the synthetics of the city wash away and Stefan and Shuxiu, both together and apart, are able to find beauty in simpler, natural forms. A drop of water on a leaf; a chirping bird; wind gusts. All things we could hear inside the walls of that building in which we began, now coming into pure focus.  

Devos and his cinematographer, Grimm Vandekerckhove, keep their gaze placed high above the city in these first few moments so as to place an emphasis on nature’s perpetuity amidst the ever-changing infrastructure of a growing city. Despite Stefan’s occupation, we are compelled to be more interested in the things he has the opportunity to witness outside of these concrete structures on which he works. And when not in the forest among the mosses and water droplets lingering on leaves after a rainstorm, we long for its gentle hum. Which is not to say the film falters when it retreats back into the city to further structure our man’s potential departure, but that it is aware of how different every environment tends to be from its outside counterparts.

Here could easily be linked to (or double/triple-billed with) two of its fellow fall festival standouts, Wim Wenders’ Perfect Days and Aki Kaurismäki’s Fallen Leaves. Each of these three films concern, in part, men going to work, battling internal conflicts in some form or another, and finding some kind of  love and connection, whether romantic or platonic, though it doesn’t matter how or where. What matters, to the filmmakers and to these films, is how much beauty lies in the little pleasures that life and mundanity, at large, have to offer. 

In both Here and Perfect Days, the environment, specifically plants, plays a significant role in the lives of its characters; they find serenity when surrounded by nature. In one key moment, Stefan finds a strange assortment of seeds in his pocket, unsure where they came from. Shortly thereafter, he’s safeguarding them as though they’re magic, the makings of a beanstalk. In Here and Fallen Leaves, romance looms, though its fruition doesn’t make or break either work; it’s merely a device deployed in an effort to cement connection between strangers, and far from their connection’s defining element.

In all three films, the act of living life on life’s terms is front of mind. And while Here’s exploration of that idea is not exactly vast, it’s also far from diminutive. Instead, it’s individualized, for both the characters under Devos’ microscope and every unique viewer. Emotions are subtly conveyed in this film, but immensely felt, because that’s what really matters. A lesser film might trigger an emotional outburst of some kind in an effort to prove to audiences that the characters they have invested time in are capable of feeling as deeply as they are. Here, however, is a film that values its characters’ interests and desires almost as much as they do, and thus commands the audience to do the same. If you’ve never cared about moss before, you’ll almost certainly never look at it the same way.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Madame Web’ Spins in Useless Circles


Director: S.J. Clarkson
Writers: Matt Sazama, Burk Sharpless, Claire Parker
Stars: Dakota Johnson, Sydney Sweeney, Isabela Merced

Synopsis: Cassandra Webb is a New York metropolis paramedic who begins to demonstrate signs of clairvoyance. Forced to challenge revelations about her former, she needs to safeguard three young women from a deadly adversary who wants them destroyed.


Madame Web has some of the most blatant and awful product placement we have seen since Keanu Reeves and Jennifer Connelly pulled up to a McDonald’s parking lot to try their new line of coffee known as the McCafe in The Day the Earth Stood Still. So, you can’t help but be confused about whether to thank the Pepsi-Cola corporation, blame them, or feel bad for them. 

They stop short of Bill Cosby opening up a can of Coke in the center frame of Ghost Dad and replying with “ahh” to signify refreshment. No, the studio has the filmmakers have the product placement practically be the hero of the story in defeating a foe, which is so outlandish that you can’t help but be impressed with the courage to sink the comic book genre to an all-time low.

This is the fourth film in the spectacular downfall of Sony’s Spider-Man Universe. The resounding thud of Madame Web has inspired me to start a petition for the studio never to make another SSU film again. S.J. Clarkson (Anatomy of a Scandal) directed this gigantic cinematic cliche. She co-wrote the script with Claire Parker, who took over the suicide mission from the Morbius writing team, Matt Sazama and Burk Sharpless. The result is a bloated episode of the television series Heroes with the leads sleepwalking through their roles. 

The story follows Cassie Webb (Dakota Johnson), a paramedic living her most average life in New York City. She and her partner, Ben (Adam Scott), drive around, saving lives. Cassie was an orphan because her mother, Constance (Halt and Catch Fire’s Kerry Bishe), died looking for a spider in the rainforest that cures hundreds of diseases. 

The twist is that she travels while pregnant with Cassie. When she locates the predatory arachnid, her guide, Ezekiel (Napoleon’s Tahar Rahim), takes the eight-legged freak for himself. Constance is shot, but an indigenous Peruvian tribe can deliver the baby, but not before biting Cassie’s mom, which gives her clairvoyant powers that have remained dormant until now. 

She then has visions of three teenagers who are going to be kill a demonically dressed Spider-Man. One is the daughter of a woman, the shy Julia (superstar Sydney Sweeney) who Cassie saved. Another is Anya (Isabell Merced), who lives in Cassie’s building. The final one is punk rock skateboarding chick Mattie (Selah and the Spades’s Celeste O’Connor), who gave Cassie the middle finger after she stopped her ambulance from running her over during oncoming traffic.

There’s simply no rhyme or reason for almost anything that happens in Madame Web. For one, the four female characters coming together have no real reason for existing other than to sell you diabetes and dementia-causing fizzy water and steal your hard-earned money at theatrical prices. The attempted backstory connecting Cassie and Sims to the teenagers is inexplicably lazy. 

So are the head-scratching time cuts. Cassie can travel to a jungle in Peru to talk to members of the Las Arañas tribe. Yet, Cassie comes back the same day, over 3652 miles a few hours later, to help Ben defend the girls who have no reason to be part of the story, to begin with, other than to spark a franchise for Sweeny, who has little to do in the movie in the first place. 

There’s no backstory to establish Rahim’s villainous character, not even during his jaw-droppingly bad exposition scene with Jill Hennessy’s unnamed NSA agent. That scene defines what’s wrong with Madame Web. Sims repeats the story endlessly. That’s the same device used consistently with Johnson’s titular character. 

However, the scenes are so poorly put together, edited, and acted with Johnson’s trademark “whispering in monotone” (thank you, Please Don’t Destroy) in a wide variety of intense situations that it’s like experiencing nails across a chalkboard repeatedly in a nightmare version of Groundhog Day. We can only pray that the rodent doesn’t see a sequel in our future.

Madame Web even squanders the fun of being an unofficial prequel to the Spider-Man franchise, where Ben is supposed to play Uncle Ben. His sister-in-law, Mary Parker (Emma Roberts), alludes to her unborn baby as the future Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield, or Tom Holland. (Considering this SSU entry quality, my money is on Garfield.)

I’m not sure what else you can say about Madame Web. The film feels like the filmmakers are working from a storyboard rather than a script because hardly anything connects individual scenes. All I know is this is my Hudson Hawk. It was one of the most painful theatrical experiences of my entire life. I owe an apology to The Marvels—one with flowers, candy, and jewelry to smooth things over. 

Grade: F

The Story of the Two Wolves: How Coppola and Luhrmann Imagined Two Different Elvises

I hesitated for so long before writing this essay, for one, because comparing two performances is a bizarre thing to do, especially without bias. It’s not like science where people can measure quantities and moderate time to create the perfect equation. We are comparing art, performances, and acting, which is always a tricky thing to execute.

The topic has been crossing my mind for a long time, though. See, from 2022 till late 2023, Elvis Presley was everything people were talking about. And for good reason, Presley, like Michael Jackson, galvanized the people of his time but ultimately became a somewhat controversial figure as times progressed. He was a successful rock and roll artist, had a Kardashian-worthy televised real life that added to his brand –Colonel Tom Parker was probably a PR genius before someone laid the rules for PR techniques- and his whole life was a rollercoaster of huge triumphs and disasters. 

To the outsider, Elvis Presley was one of the pop culture images that represented the American dream; a life of excess, sexuality that struggled with expression in light of religious piety, a matriarchy washed in overt masculinity, and flamboyance that insisted on a hypermasculine image. Presley was as polarizing and confusing as America, this dazzling nation, not just to non-Americans but Americans themselves. As far as controversial figures went, he was the typical rock and roll artist; a tormented musician, harboring dark secrets of his own, living a hectic, wild life that ultimately culminated in his early demise.

I fervently defended Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis, especially during the 2022 award season. I thought Austin Butler’s performance was brilliant, and he deserved the Best Actor Academy Award despite all the respect I had for Brendan Fraser. That year felt like a fever dream for cinephiles. It reignited my passion and love for cinema, and it allowed me to rediscover Elvis Presley as a singer. I started compiling playlists and listening to them on my way to work or the gym or on busy traffic days. I immersed myself in the Black music that Elvis borrowed –or stole from- in the movie and his life. I remember striking up conversations with strangers on Twitter; film critics, cinephiles, and Elvis fans, and we were all wondering what had happened. Did we succumb to a mass hallucinogenic experience when we went to the movie theater that year? What did Luhrmann give us when he introduced us to this movie?

So, when Sofia Coppola announced she was making Priscilla, I was skeptical, to say the least. I wasn’t familiar with Jacob Elordi’s work beyond Euphoria –although to be honest, I hadn’t even heard of Butler until Elvis in 2022- and I thought it was too early to revisit a character already iconized by one actor in the same decade. But I was excited that there would be another film focused on the woman’s POV. We would finally get Elvis’s ex-wife’s story and see other aspects of this vibrant man’s life, maybe a different aura of his energy.

This was until I watched Priscilla and Elordi exceeded my expectations to the extent of making me hate Elvis. I saw the dark side of him; a spoiled, freaky individual with an Oedipal complex and intense mood swings. In Coppola’s eyes, Elvis was an obsessive man, a groomer, and an insecure artist incapable of making decisions on his own or of listening to people who dared defy him. 

It struck me as odd how I could love both versions of Elvis when they were opposites. I was surprised at how I found that both actors did well with what they were given. Admittedly, Butler was more carnivalistic and exposed, and that garnered him –especially due to the biopic film medium – award accolades and a movie star status. But it should be noted that Elordi benefited a lot from Priscilla as well, and his entry into Hollywood –combined with his careful PR campaigning as the giant sultry seductress in Saltburn– gave him a place among the movie stars he was far away from, trapped in TV land.

The actors’ approaches to Elvis couldn’t be more different. While Butler took the route of studying, dedicating, understanding, and loving the man beneath the sequins and the glitter; Elordi seemed to carefully detach himself from the Presley image, choosing to dismiss the whole thing as a joke, and showing clear disinterest in Elvis as a performer or a rock icon. He was chill and relaxed in playing a dark man, tormented by grief and all the isolation that celebrity life brings. Butler performed from a supra-identity, something above the present, a higher self over the already established star image of Presley. Of course, credit should also be given to both directors because their approaches in structuring both Elvises were polarizing and fascinating to watch.

Coppola approached Elvis and Priscilla through an ultra-feminist lens. She hated Elvis and didn’t show him in any positive light. Her lighting and camera angles shot this giant beast who snatched the delicate dove Priscilla from her young, sheltered life. She saw him from an unsympathetic lens –no matter what she said, sorry Sofia, babe- and created a sinister presence that made me delete all his songs from my playlist. After Priscilla, I realized I wasn’t keen on watching any of his clips or his interviews. I wanted to get this man out of my head.

Luhrmann, on the other hand, molded an enigma of Elvis through Austin Butler. He wasn’t interested in giving Elvis darker dimensions as much as he was interested in deciphering the code of what makes an average man a star. What drove women wild after a man, chasing him wherever he went, going crazy over his tiniest bits, and obsessing over boring stuff like what he ate for breakfast, and who his parents were? He was trying to uncover one of the universal secrets. He needed an actor he could build his fascination over, thus came Butler and he was the perfect vessel for this transcendence. To make that movie, Luhrmann glossed over many of Presley’s shortcomings. He portrayed Elvis and Priscilla as two love birds when they were not. He didn’t dig deep at the creepy Gladys-Elvis relationship that Coppola masterfully showcased in Priscilla through Elvis’s brief hints at his mother, and her domineering photos all over Graceland. 

Instead of analyzing both perspectives, the media turned the ordeal into a bloodsport, pitting both actors against each other, but rarely making the comparison of seeking what the directors –the real masterminds behind both images- wanted to say through their movies.

The question that irked me after all that was whether I loved one movie over the other. Whether Elvis Presley still had a place in my heart after watching nauseating scenes of him seeking a child and grooming her later to be his wife in Priscilla, then rewatching Baz Luhrmann’s film and realizing it was so naïve and silly to show them as two same-age individuals, using Butler’s baby face features to match Olivia DeJonge’sdocile beauty. 

It’s difficult to pinpoint where things go wrong. I know Baz Luhrmann’s film will always be in my heart. The “Trouble” and “Baby Let’s Play House” performances, in particular, were electrifying, and watching them in the movie theater was almost psychedelic. I can’t say the same about Sofia Coppola’s film that I found thought-provoking and scary, like all her other saccharine-poison movies about women coming-of-age. I thought about Priscilla for hours and hours after finishing it and found it brilliant. It hurt my feminist soul to watch a young woman make her ultimate dream come true, only for her to realize that a dream involving a superstar would ultimately end up as a nightmare. She loved an image, not knowing she was marrying a whole system operating on storytelling, brand management, and spoiling a young man beyond recognition so that he becomes a ghost of a human being, a shell that will always feel empty, no matter how many pints of water are poured down his throat.

I will always love both films, and I find both actors very in command of what their roles demanded them to do. As I said goodbye to them, though, I realized what Elvis and Priscilla did to me. They turned me off biopics. For good!

Biopics are a tricky territory; for one, actors have to be faithful to the character they’re playing. Then, the director has to have a deeper message beyond outlining someone’s life from cradle to grave, to evade the “too boring, too archival” booby trap. Then, there’s the worry that the script cannot simply be faithful to the reality of things but also must be innovative. Additionally, there’s the landmine that actual people –the subject’s family or past lovers- might get hurt when the nature of their relationship is exposed. Biopics are a lot of work, and they are even more tiresome when people spend so much time promoting them based on the fact that the leading actor or actress embodied or became the character. It drives people, like me, insane, and somehow after the Elvis and Priscilla discourse, things have gone more sour, like they used up whatever remaining energy to enjoy a biopic without thinking too deeply about whether an actor truly got it or not. Not to mention how disappointing it was to shift camps from “Elvis the bird who was forced to fly forever, and whose marriage to Priscilla was like any other failed marriage culminating in jealousy and infidelity” to “Elvis the creep who groomed a 14-year-old girl to be his wife, preserving her virginity so that he would be the first one to touch her.” Vacillating between these two mindsets was truly exhausting and, as a cinephile, both experiences put out the fires in each other, even when Butler was brilliant in Elvis, and Elordi was convincing and menacing in Priscilla.

Movie Review: ‘Bhakshak’ Highlights the Transformative Power of Journalism


Director: Pulkit
Writers: Jyotsana Nath, Pulkit
Stars: Bhumi Pednekar, Sanjay Mishra, Aditya Srivastava

Synopsis: Revolves around the journey of an unwavering woman’s quest to seek justice and her perseverance in getting a heinous crime to light.


The role of a journalist, or their mission, has been heavily debated over the years. Should they objectively report the news or involve themselves in a story to hold the people in power accountable? In Bhakshak, Vaishali Singh (Bhumi Pednekar) wants to do the latter after she receives a tip from her source that a government-funded shelter home has been engaging in the abuse (and murder) of young girls. The police know what is happening but do not intervene, as the man who runs the home, Bansi Sahu (Aditya Srivastava), has several government officials and police officers in his pockets. 

As Vaishali learns more about what’s going on, she wants to bring this story to light to expose all the figures involved, but her family thinks it’s a futile – and dangerous – effort. Her news channel barely gets any views, and Sahu immediately targets family members to shut her up. However, Vaishali never backs down despite these intimidation tactics, even when her brother-in-law gets severely injured and wants to investigate the story as deeply as she can so the truth can be uncovered to the public and the people responsible for these heinous crimes are behind bars. 

This causes a division in her family, with plenty of one-dimensional dialogue scenes attempting to give emotional stakes to the proceedings. Her family is more concerned about Vaishali’s husband than her quest for the truth and would rather she procreate before it’s too late. Yeah, instead of attempting to save young girls from extreme abuse, her family’s focus is on Vaishali having kids. However, she immediately claps back with one hell of an impassioned monologue, in which she reverses the situation and asks her family, what if she was stuck in a home with no way out and was forced to sell her body to Sahu just to survive? It’s at that moment when Vaishali’s quest for objectivity leaves her mind, as it has now become a life-or-death situation for her and the girls who are still being abused by the men and women who run the shelter. 

Produced by Gauri Khan and Gaurav Verma, Bhakshak asks timely questions about journalism’s purpose in society, especially in a country where corruption runs rampant. And while its flaws stick out like a sore thumb, the importance of a film like this cannot be overstated. Director Pulkit doesn’t shy away from showing harrowing moments of abuse either. While nothing explicit is shown on screen, the agonizing screams from its victims are enough to make your stomach churn. 

Perhaps the antagonists are stretched out to be as one-note as possible, but Srivastava’s portrayal of Sahu is terrifying in and of itself. He posits himself as a calm and patient man who has done a lot for the community, which is what he continuously says to Vaishali, only for his darker side to reveal itself as the camera observes him in the shelter, making innocent girls beg for their lives as he beats them with a belt and rapes them. Vaishali sees right through Sahu’s calm demeanor and fake smile and will stop at nothing until his entire operation shuts down. 

However, it will prove far more complex than she initially thought, especially when she learns that Mithilesh Sinha (Chittaranjan Tripathy), who works for the Child Welfare Association, is a key player in Sahu’s operation, paid off to tamper with files and bring anyone who escaped from the shelter back into Sahu’s hands. The corruption is even deeper when government officials deliberately ignore taking action at Sahu, but some things will have to change once Vaishali publicizes their involvement. 

The best parts of Bhakshak are when Pulkit observes Vaishali believing in the transformative power of journalism as a vehicle for truth to be conveyed since the ones in power don’t want it to come out. In that sense, journalism is treated here as a watchdog for democracy, which many scholars believe is its primary function (Rasmus Kleis Nielsen disagrees, but that’s a story for another time). Pulkit treats it as such and gives its central figure enough time to shine so that the truth comes out naturally when all the pieces are laid out. 

As such, Pednekar gives a career-defining performance after a streak of lousy turns. Her plentiful monologues as she gradually gives more proof to the public are confidently delivered, and the film’s bravura sequence in which she begs Indians to fight for what’s right and stand up against oppressors is as timely of a message as ever. This arc is the only reason Bhakshak is worth watching — showing the lengths a journalist has to go for the truth, especially in a climate where trust in the media is at an all-time low, and users turn to angrier, less truthful depictions of society. 

Against all odds, Vaishali shows how transformative journalism can be, especially when used against corrupt governments who would rather fill their pockets with dirty money than bring these criminals to justice. It’s a tale as old as time but one whose message needs to be reaffirmed in an era when journalism faces more challenges than ever. Journalism is a deeply human activity in which its best pieces humanize its subjects in a way that no one else can. Vaishali not only brings out the truth of a corrupt system but also humanizes the ones who have been oppressed and abused for years when nothing has been done. As a result, the victims saved by Vaishali’s journalistic activities are the real heroes of the story, the ones we must remember when the full picture of this story is revealed. 

Through this figure of a truth-seeking Vaishali, Pednekar reminds us all why journalism must – and will – survive. 

Grade: B

The Best Of Berlinale’s Winners

After Sundance, the next important film festival is the Berlin International Film Festival, or Berlinale for short, held every February. Since 1951, this has become a major place for international releases, equal in stature to Cannes and Venice during the year. Among the films making their premiere are Seven Veils from director Atom Egoyan (The Sweet Hereafter), Spaceman starring Adam Sandler and Carey Mulligan, and Treasure starring Lena Dunham and Stephen Fry. It is almost forgotten because it is at the beginning of the year, but several films have carried on from Berlin towards the end of the year as a major awards player. Here are a few notable winners from the top prize, the Golden Bear.

12 Angry Men (1957)

Sidney Lumet’s debut film took home the top prize with his single room drama of a jury debating the fate of an accused killer and a single man (Henry Fonda) holding out on convicting him that easily. With Martin Balsam, Lee J. Cobb, Jack Warden, and Ed Begley, Lumet makes a hot day even hotter inside with a passionate discussion of presumption of innocence contained in a small room. It’s an actor’s film where everyone is on their A-Game and it is a pressure cooker which the young Lumet was able to make in the beginning of his illustrious career. 

The Ascent (1977)

The last film in the short career of Larisa Shepitko before her tragic death is an astonishing piece of work set in the harshest winter during the Second World War. It follows two Soviet partisans who are captured by Nazi collaborators and pressured to give them information, one who is willing to die keeping quiet and the other being more willing to talk. Nearly banned for its semi-religious undertones, The Ascent is about integrity and patriotism in the face of the enemy and in such a desolate state in war. 

Veronika Voss (1982)

Native director Rainer Werner Fassbinder was finally given his due at home with this story of a former German actress, once a star, and her new relationship with a journalist. When the journalist discovers that Veronika is under the influence of a doctor who gives her countless drugs to take all her money, the journalist tries to break Veronika from the doctor’s spell. It is the last of Fassbinder’s BRD Trilogy with The Marriage of Maria Braun and Lola, and was the penultimate film of his career before Fassbinder’s sudden death that same year, age 38. 

The Thin Red Line (1998)

Oddly, the film was part of Berlinale 1999, so it won after its release in the United States. It worked out well since Terrence Malick’s comeback after twenty years was shut out from winning any Oscars and it is a much worthy win for this deeply philosophical story during the Battle of Guadalcanal. A major ensemble cast featuring Sean Penn, John Travolta, Jim Caviezel, Nick Nolte, John C. Reily, and Woody Harrelson deal with the horrors of war, the beauty of nature they fight in, and whether personal glory is worth it, with Hans Zimmer’s mesmerizing score, John Toll’s lush cinematography, and Malick’s timely direction that makes Red Line a standout.  

Bloody Sunday / Spirited Away (2002)

Two films shared the Golden Bear that year, one introducing us to Paul Greengrass as a film director and one anointing the legendary career of Hayao Miyazaki. 

In Bloody Sunday, Greengrass gives us a docudrama about the tragic events of January 30, 1972, in Derry, Northern Ireland when British soldiers shot upon a protest crowd, killing 14 people. Using his background in making documentaries, Greengrass pieces together the moments leading up to the tragedy and its aftermath with an incredible force of power, now more than 50 years after the tragedy. 

With Spirited Away, it became Miyazaki’s magnum opus that led him to his Oscar victory for Best Animated Feature and made Miyazaki a truly international star. His fairy tale is a mix of Buddhism, the spirit world, and traditionalism versus modernism which catapults us to another level of imagination only he could have created. For an animated movie to get the top award at an international film festival, no less one of the big ones, is a testament to how great and beloved Spirited Away is. 

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Odd and Unusual Sharon Stone Films

From early horror and obscure thrillers to Razzie worthy bads and maligned comedy, these peculiar films peppering Sharon Stone’s repertoire remain surprisingly entertaining viewing despite their flaws – or maybe because of them.

Deadly Blessing

Wes Craven (A Nightmare on Elm Street) directs Ernest Borgnine (McHale’s Navy) and the debuting Sharon Stone in this 1981 rural cult thriller that will be too stereotypical and country slow paced for some viewers. Fortunately, Peeping Tom angles, peering camera depths, blinding lights, red photography, and scary shadows provide the sinister afoot. Extreme religious implications, farm country isolation, creepy barns, and the backwoods lack of technology create fear. This is not for those afraid of snakes and spiders! Although the music accents the scares and suspense alongside some lovely character moments, innocence, and well done themes; the flat script leaves certain dramatic and supernatural elements unexplored. The pieces don’t all fit together as Borgnine’s stern and spooky looming and Stone’s very effective heebie jeebies don’t always mesh. The weird ending combines slasher and mystical scaries but the uneven girl power versus scream queens ends up as unfulfilling and out of place. Thankfully, there’s a very freaky bath tub scene and enough mystery and creepy atmosphere for fans of the cast and crew.


Allan Quatermain and the Lost City of Gold

James Earl Jones (Coming to America) and Cassandra Peterson (Elvira: Mistress of the Dark) join the titular Richard Chamberlain and his lady love Stone in this 1987 sequel to King Solomon’s Mines based upon the H. Rider Haggard adventures. Unfortunately, snakes, chases, and gunfire can’t distract from the cringe worthy colonialism, white savior heroics, nondescript interwar setting, and eighties anachronisms of this cheap, rushed, turbulent production. Superfluous characters with terribly racist accents, poor dialogue, and weak backstory waste time when our arguing, no chemistry couple could have uncovered the gold pieces and Phoenician daggers themselves. The uneven first half hour can be skipped in favor of the lovely waterfalls, rainbows, sunsets, and lions, but the various terrains and picturesque views are just montages with a very thin script occasionally peppered by fun booby traps.

For every decent action moment, two more Temple of Doom knockoff sequences drag on, and the overplayed score forces the adventure on even when nothing is happening. This almost has to be seen to be believed, yet these mistakes have much in common with today’s franchise ad nauseam – strung together stories, shoddy action sequences, flat characterizations, and danger wrongly played for humor. Contrived perils are resolved easily through happenstance, and although he never has to reload, Quatermain’s only successful when using his gun. Overacting Stone’s Jesse is treated as capable sassy one minute then petulant and screaming the next, stomping her foot or clingy as needed. Peterson is also wasted as a non-speaking evil queen, and the evil priest slave labor a la Mola Ram goes on fifteen minutes too long with no rhyme or reason to the laughable gold weapons, thunder, yelling, and yes, golden showers.

Scissors

Craft shears, elevator attacks, and red bearded culprits spell tension, repression, and paranoia for ingenue Stone, doctor Ronny Cox (Total Recall), and Steve Railsback (Lifeforce) twins in this 1991 thriller. The claustrophobic atmosphere is thick thanks to penetration symbolism, sleazy old men, and scissors as self-defense. Frenetic camerawork, distorted angles, and zoomed in details reflect Angie’s understandable fears amid seemingly kind men who nonetheless linger uncomfortably close in her personal space. Angie retreats to her pink apartment with a room for her creepy doll restorations – dressing the hip 26 year old in a little black dress one minute and childlike in white lace the next. She looks at herself nude but turns away from her piggy puppet toy watching her and avoids discussing her childhood in regression therapy. Our doctor applauds her strength, but we wonder about her background and the underlying male dominance controlling her psyche. An attempted romance with a soap star neighbor is stilted by his lecherous wheelchair bound brother, and their making out on her little white daybed is also weird – innocence mixed with steamy music, shadowed lighting schemes, peepers looking through the blinds, and our smiling piggy.

Angie is threatened again in a dark movie theater, running away in fear while men stare but don’t notice anything’s wrong. She hides in the dark with her dolls but is called to a stenographer job in an under construction building with a swanky sample apartment and elaborate machinations. Stone carries the suspenseful build in solo scenes – sans the corpse in the bedroom – as panoramic overhead spins and colorful lighting changes reflect Angie’s unraveling. Choice pans, carnival crescendos, duplicitous mirrors, and a voyeuristic camera follow Angie as she recoils before still silence while she bangs on the soundproof windows. It is however a mistake to break from the trapped isolation for obvious twin stunt double struggles and the old pencil rubbing on the notepad contrivances. The traumatic source is also apparent despite pointless red herrings and superfluous characters, and things get silly as her deprivation increases, descending into camp with the corpse at the doll tea party. The flashback probably shouldn’t be so laughable, but the turnabout topper embraces the preposterous psychological analysis.

The Muse

Writer and Director Albert Brooks (Defending Your Life) is losing his edge screenwriter Steven Phillips and Sharon Stone is the muse who helps him finish his latest script in this 1999 Hollywood play within play farce. Everyone’s a fake stealing ideas, and studio executives admit to churning out repetitive bad action movies just to meet three picture deals. These snotty execs lied about liking Steven’s last picture and it’s not their problem if he depends on this next writing income to support his family. They suggest he take a vacay, go back to the smaller films they earlier claimed no one was buying or perhaps he try television. Clever one on one conversations laced with Hollywood mirror to nature remain relevant as Steven leaves Paramount before being denied at the Universal Studios gate and walking across the uphill backlot only to meet nepo hires who also never see the real Spielberg. No one’s telling Steven’s writer friend Jeff Bridges (The Big Lebowski) that he’s too old to write because he had a hit movie, and talk of writers having short lives or killing themselves hint at a deeper Hollywood darkness.

Our writer must accept this windfall with no questions asked, but always without a pen Steven also expects it easier, wanting Sarah to write his script for him. His wife Andie Macdowell (Groundhog Day) has to roll with the Tiffany gifts for his muse and put her family first, becoming slightly cliché with her own onscreen safe and domestic cookie business. Steven objects to the idea that Laura’s Cookies will support them when he’s turned out of his own bedroom and can’t finish his script before a deus ex machina oil strike idea from Sarah and one more everyone believes everything in Hollywood wink. At times, the tone here is flat, mirroring downtrodden writer Brooks instead of embracing the whimsy peppered by sardonic cameos from James Cameron, Martin Scorsese, and more. Fortunately, Stone’s whirlwind diva remains memorable thanks to her increasingly outrageous intrusions. Her funky hair style matches her shiny, feathered pajama frocks while folding fan exaggerations and snappy mannerisms hit home the creative hurricane. Is Sarah really an uplifting deity in disguise or a manipulative couch surfer faking it to make it? Wild errands for Spago salads, aquariums trips, and demanding the walls be painted a nicer color are all part of Steven’s inspirational experience, and this zany commentary deserves multiple viewings.


Cold Creek Manor

New York skylines, business flights, and scary accidents lead to a perilous country renovation for Dennis Quaid (Innerspace) and Sharon Stone in this 2003 thriller from director Mike Figgis (Leaving Las Vegas). High end style, brick manors, overgrown charm, and unusual slaughter tools forgive the cliché driving to the scares and redneck rest stops. Spiderwebs, children’s clothes left behind, vintage family portraits, and saucy Polaroids set off older phones that feel more rural rather than dated. Overhead camera angles, up close shots, in and out of focus usage, slow zooms, and pans in the stairwell provide eerie while intercut conversations build tension. Snakes, nasty old men, threatening dialogue, and tavern violence accent the backwoods car chases, animals in peril, and buried evidence as storms approach. Unfortunately, the trailer park naughty, shirtless handyman, foreclosure dilemmas, and mano y mano contests are weak, trying too hard alongside several unnecessary characters compromising what should be taut isolation. Nobody pays attention to the son with all the information or the real estate deal that would have saved everyone this trouble. Evasive editing doesn’t distract from the confusing logistics, affairs contrivances, and claims that the pretty rich white people have no other resources to leave. Although this tries to be a sophisticated, steamy, cerebral thriller and the quality pieces don’t quite come together before the weak rooftop standoff; the most frightening scenes are the quiet chills and this can be bemusing if you enjoy the house horrors. 

The Great Preservationist: Henri Langlois

When I was young and getting into movies, I wanted to get my hands on everything. I am still working to get my hands on anything. As I dabbled in film classes, I realized that I had no talent in writing scripts or directing, so reading about movies and watching them is what I settled on. Eventually, when I learned about the French New Wave, a man who was not a filmmaker came to my attention as a pioneer in many respects. That person, Henri Langlois, was this oaf of a man with a personality of love that attracted every young cinephile to his abode full of dreams on celluloid. I wanted to be like him. Watch movies, preserve movies, show movies – under government funding. It’s a dream job and Langlois founded it themselves. 

Henri Langlois was born in 1914 in Turkey and moved to France when he was eight. From childhood, he was highly interested in attending the cinema and immediately wanted to work in something related to movies. Every Thursday and Sunday afternoon, Langlois would be at the cinema, but his father wanted the young Henri to be a lawyer and so sought to enroll him in law school. But Langlois defied his father by intentionally failing his entry exam, simply submitting a blank page before leaving the school and going to his local theater. He said, “I’m the black sheep of the family. I loved cinema too much.” 

Finding work in a printing press, Langlois would meet Georges Franju, who would later direct Eyes Without A Face and Judex, and with fellow filmmaker Jean Mitry, they founded the Cinematheque Francaise in 1936. With early assistance by Paul-Auguste Harle in funding and no government funding until 1945, ten films were part of the first collection and slowly would grow based on requests for donations. As a columnist for a film magazine, Langlois wrote about the importance of preserving silent films as talking pictures were normalized and many silent films were presumed lost. Franju credits Langlois’ push to save silent films in helping him become a better director because he would constantly watch silent films recommended by Langlois. 

By the start of Nazi occupation in France in 1940, Langois and company had successfully kept a vast collection of movies and memorabilia. This included old cameras, projection equipment, costumes from period films, and vintage theatre programmes. When the Nazis ordered the destruction of all films prior to 1937, he and others smuggled most of their collection out of Paris and hid them in various places, holding secret screenings until the end of the war. Langlois would describe the loss of movies as, “a crime against civilization.” His main curator was German exile Lotte Eisner and she would hold that position of the Cinémathèque Française until her retirement.

It is at the Cinematheque Francais where directors from the French New Wave got together and watched films as critics before becoming directors. Francois Truffaut, Jean-Luc Godard, Claude Chabrol, Eric Rohmer, Alain Resnais, and others would attend daily screenings and become friends with Langlois. They were called, “les enfants de la cinémathèque,” or ‘children of the cinémathèque.’ It also changed government support when funding went up from 3.4 million Francs between 1945 and 1959 to 20 million Francs from 1959 to 1968 and moved into the much-bigger Palais de Challiot. However, it resulted in more scrutiny on the Cinematheque, conflicting with Langlois’ way of working in it.

With his eccentric way with his preservation methods, Langlois faced consistent criticism from the French government’s Ministry of Culture. He was accused of neglecting administration and having no approach in proper recordkeeping such as the library’s ownership rights, as well as being careless with thousands of films which deteriorated and blocked researchers from gaining access. In 1959, some of its collection was lost to a nitrate fire, and Langlois would be in conflict with the International Federation of Film Archives, in association with counterparts in London, Berlin, and New York, which he had a role in establishing. His stature however prevented any serious changes at the Cinematheque. Years of battles resulted in the firing of Langlois in February 1968 by the French Minister of Culture Andre Malraux. 

The massive pushback against the decision became worldwide as protests led by leading French film figures including Truffaut, Godard, actress Simone Signoret, and director Jean Renoir spilled out onto the street. The police were brought over to break the protest of over 3000 people in front of the Cinematheque and became violent, with Godard suffering a gash and his noteworthy glasses being shattered, a foreshadowing event for protests in May that year leading to the cancellation of that year’s Cannes Film Festival. Dozens of actors, writers, and directors around the world signed a letter calling for Langlois to be reinstalled including Orson Welles, Ingrid Bergman, Charlie Chaplin, Stanley Kubrick, Alfred Hitchcock, Akira Kurosawa, and Federico Fellini among many others. Eventually, Malraux changed course and Langlois was reinstated two months later.

For his work in film preservation, he was awarded an Honorary Oscar in 1974, “for his devotion to the art of film, his massive contributions in preserving its past and his unswerving faith in its future.” From ten films at the start, the collection reached over 60,000 films by the early 1970s. Langois’ collection was so big that when it was donated to the newly established Musée du Cinéma, the amount total spanned two full miles. Langlois remained active until his death on January 13, 1977, but his passion, now in a more modern building with Costa-Gavras (Z) as President, is still alive for current film lovers to see in person. 

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Movie Review: ‘Golden Years’ Shows That Personal Growth Doesn’t Stop With Age


Director: Barbara Kulcsar
Writer: Petra Biondina Volpe
Stars: Esther Gemsch, Stefan Kurt, Ueli Jäggi

Synopsis: A retired couple is getting ready to enjoy their life as pensioners on a cruise trip through the Mediterranean. The spouses end up going on separate journeys of self-discovery and finding unexpected ways of how to spend their golden years.


There is a certain tendency amongst particular groups to sneer at the “grey-rinse” comedy. Especially if that comedy is written about people of a certain middle-class and relatively affluent background. Barbara Kulcsar’s Golden Years is precisely the kind of film that will raise those hackles because a journey of self-(re)discovery for privileged white Swiss people is ultimately going to be read as unimportant fluff. What this reading elides is that we are all on the inevitable march towards death. Some of us are most certainly in a better position to cope with it than others, but it is coming, no matter what. It’s highly unlikely that Barbara Kulcsar and screenwriter Petra Biondina Volpe are making a film with universal appeal. However, they are making one with a particular appeal and charm.

The film begins twice. In the first scene we see Alice (Esther Gemsch) grimacing in a dance class for seniors. The next scene is her husband, Peter (Stefan Kurt) at his low-key retirement party. He’s sixty-five and he can stop working. His job isn’t even going to be filled. He’s redundant in so many senses of the word. He steps outside and lets the red party balloon float off into the sky. Here’s to the “bright horizons” of his future.

Alice and Peter have been married for over forty years. They have two adult children, Susanne (Isabelle Barth) and Julian (Martin Vischer). Susanne is eyeing her parents’ large house for herself and her family as she has decided they don’t need all that space now they are old. Julian doesn’t want the house as he’s happy(ish) living a more bohemian permanently single life elsewhere. The siblings bicker perhaps more than their parents do. Yet, there is a sense that Alice and Peter have little in common except the familiarity of a pair of comfortable shoes. 

Alice believes that now Peter finally has leisure time, and she is no longer bringing up a family, it’s the moment to reinvigorate their relationship. Whereas Peter really just wants to do nothing much at all. They both believe they’ve earned something from life and each other but what that actually is, neither can properly articulate.

The sudden exercise-related death of Alice’s best friend Magali (Elvira Plüss) puts them both into a form of crisis mode. Peter suddenly becomes a fitness fanatic and Alice discovers an entire life Magali was hiding from her milquetoast husband, Heinz (Ueli Jäggi). Magali had a secret lover named Claude in Toulouse for fifteen years. Peter’s goal is to extend his life (“What for?” Alice asks), and hers it to find something as passionate as whatever was going on between Magali and her once yearly lover.

A cruise ship holiday through the Mediterranean crystallizes just how far apart they have drifted in love and life philosophy. Peter is more interested in early morning workouts with accidental third-wheel, Heinz, than he is in sex with Alice. Alice meets Michi (Gundi Ellert) a divorced woman from Basel who tells her that she finally feels free to do what she wants – her deliberate unfettering somewhat shocks Alice, but also intrigues her.

A luxury cruise might seem like the least auspicious place for a radical marriage breakdown – but in a way it makes perfect sense. Everyone on board is told to have “fun” – all their material needs are catered for. They just have to sit back and relax and enjoy the ride. So, Alice essentially jumps ship in Marseilles to go on her own journey which will eventually lead her to Toulouse where she can tell the mysterious Claude that Magali has passed away. Peter can’t believe Alice would ever do something that reckless without first consulting him and immediately flies into tantrums and panic-based hypochondria. Realizing he can’t get the ship to stay in port to find Alice (a real the world doesn’t stop just because you want it to moment for him), he eventually flies home with his new “wife” figure, Heinz.

Alice’s journey is very much her down the rabbit hole experience where she comes across a bunch of colorful characters. She meets some mushroom dosing grey nomads, buys new dresses because she just feels like it. Gets admired by men and women alike. Gets lost and found by a series of people. She finally reaches Claude and the revelation of who Claude actually is both shocks and satisfies her. It might not be at all shocking for the viewer, but for Alice and her quiet and restrained existence, it’s a rewiring of what she thought was possible in life.

On the home front, Peter moves into a cozy domesticity with Heinz. Essentially, he replaces Alice with a man who seems as uncomplicated, if a little morose. His daughter Susanne is having a nervous breakdown and is drinking too much and arguing in front of her kids who know what’s going on better than Peter does.

When Alice finally returns to her home she finds she doesn’t have one. Peter has thrown her out for leaving him on the cruise. Susanne doesn’t want to deal with her because she thinks Alice was selfish for leaving Peter. Only Julian has some sense of what is happening to his mother and takes her in, but even that won’t work with his Tinder Hook-up lifestyle. At some point, everyone is going to have to sit down and work stuff out.

There is of course a whiff of “first world boomer problems” in the film. Yet, the humor and general good-naturedness of the film mostly overcomes its flaws. Barbara Kulcsar is pointing out that love and working out life is difficult for every generation. No one is truly settled and sorted out as long as they’re alive. Their levels of fiscal ease may vary; but when one is looking at the so called “last stretch of life” in their sixties, Mary Oliver’s poetic question “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” comes into play.

Golden Years is breezy, silly, and often frustrating. It commits to its more serious themes through comedy and sometimes that lets it down. Barbara Kulcsar’s “senior comedy” does have enough unpretentious pathos to allow the audience to connect with characters who seem insufferable. As Mary Oliver wrote, “Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?”

Grade: B-

Op-Ed: The Ouroboros of Modern Film Distribution

When the trailer for Rebel Moon: Part One – A Child of Fire came across my path, I had no idea what it was or where it came from. I watched the trailer and was awestruck by the visuals. The film has some incredible CGI, it looked so immersive and beautifully realistic. At the end of the trailer, though, I sighed with disappointment. I saw the Netflix logo appear with a date for when it will be on the site. I did a little research afterwards and saw that there wouldn’t even be an attempt by Netflix to release it in theaters. It’s a shame Netflix didn’t, because while my television, and likely yours, is high definition, this film deserved to be on a big enough screen that the sound and the impact of each scene could blow you back in your seat.

There could have been a number of factors as to why Netflix kept this one just for themselves. It saw the other original sci-fi film of the Fall, The Creator, not quite bomb, but not quite live up to domestic box office hopes. It didn’t want to try and compete with the IP crowded theaters grasping for the eyes of winter break viewers. They might have just realized that a film with three credited writers couldn’t make a story that didn’t play exactly like space opera Mad Libs, that’s a flimsy rip off of Seven Samurai

Yet, in Fall of 2023, Apple TV+ did what Netflix couldn’t or wouldn’t attempt and broke through with two films that couldn’t have been less geared toward the current state of the movie theater audience. Both Killers of the Flower Moon and Napoleon, like Rebel Moon, boasted hefty runtimes, hefty budgets, and megawatt directors. The difference is Apple TV+ sought a partnership between the new and the old. Killers of the Flower Moon was produced with the help of Paramount and Napoleon with the help of Columbia/Sony. 

These partnerships made these films more than just a streamer breaking from format, it guaranteed a theatrical run that wasn’t mired in the idea that people could just wait a week for the film to drop onto the streamer. Not only that, but the films as co-productions could take advantage of the VOD rental and purchase market, opening up a deeper revenue stream before they found their forever home. Even with modest domestic success, their added international grosses boosted them much closer to recouping their cost. Napoleon, according to BoxOfficeMojo, more than doubled its domestic box office in the international markets.

Amazon Prime, too, found a bit more success, or at least word of mouth to drive people to their streamers after a theatrical run. When the tech giant bought MGM, one of the oldest movie studios around, it looked like it was just buying a library. It also felt like Amazon Prime was really just buying the James Bond franchise, much like when Disney bought LucasFilm so it could produce a galaxy of far, far too many Star Wars properties. But it was doing something much more stealthy. Amazon Prime was buying a brand they could use to generate content for their streaming service, and subsequently an unnecessary additional streaming service, MGM+, in order to release things theatrically, then pluck them for the streamer when the time was right. Also, like Apple TV+, Amazon Prime, under the MGM and associated smaller studio labels, added several of these types of films to VOD platforms for additional revenue.

Disney,on the other hand, has been straddling multiple strategies to try and boost its lagging properties. Its streaming platforms, Disney+ and Hulu, have exclusives, shows and movies that one cannot find anywhere else. Its studios, Walt Disney Pictures and 20th Century Studios, are able to put tickets in hands and butts in seats at least two weekends of every month. Yet, it’s finding neither one to be enough as the quality or enthusiasm for the studio’s output has waned. 

Marvel Studios, a Disney property, isn’t  bombing spectacularly, but the studio is finding that the once golden goose of a formula is laying some eggs, which means a scaled back 2024. There is only one Marvel property scheduled for theatrical release this year, Deadpool 3, and it’s a legacy property of which they had no hand in the prior successes of. 

Disney’s emotion churning, family friendly, animated film juggernaut Pixar has also had a few less than stellar moments lately. In an attempt to try and bring back some of the money it’s lost on the Disney+ venture, Disney has a plan to release those Pixar films stymied by the pandemic, which premiered on Disney+, into theaters the first three months of this year. 

The studio also pivoted on their streaming exclusivity by going to their old standby of home physical media. Several Disney+ shows are releasing as collector’s editions on blu-ray. It’s a gambit that may pay off for them, but it’s also a clear sign that the streaming revolution may never be total.

So, why are streamers flailing and studios failing? These entertainment juggernauts don’t realize that by creating so many options, building so many platforms, and releasing so much content, they’re creating a paradox. The paradox being that they need to create content to keep viewers, but the more content they create without waiting for the first batch to recoup their cost means they spend far more than they could ever make and in making more, more, more, they create the burden of choice on their viewers.

These companies have no real way out of this mess. The only way they can try is an almost tried and true method of failure, attempting to repeat something spontaneously and genuinely successful that happened not because of their influence. Yeah, I’m referring to Barbenheimer.

There is no way anyone at any studio could have predicted that the counter programming pairing of a film based on a toy line with a storyline that includes existential dread and a dense, lengthy film about a divisive scientist, also filled with existential dread, could have been as lucrative as it has. Barbie and Oppenheimer became the number 1 and number 5 highest grossing films of 2023. They toppled records and brought people into the theater the way only a Marvel or other IP behemoth could have. What’s more, these films stayed in theaters. According to data on BoxOfficeMojo, Barbie played on over 1,000 screens across the US for 77 straight days. On the 78th day it dropped to a “mere” 808 screens. The last data point for Barbie on BoxOfficeMojo has it that it was playing in some theater, somewhere in the U.S. for 185 consecutive days. The site hasn’t updated with information on Barbie’s rerelease after its eight Oscar nominations.Oppenheimer during that same period lasted 70 days at over 1,000 screens and has had a bump back to 254 screens in its 185th day, with several hundred more added in the wake of thirteen Oscar nominations. It still gains theatrical momentum as it mows through the competition at awards shows like a…. well… like a very well made film should.

Unfortunately for us, the studios are going to try and recreate this. They will force something into being without letting it take the natural course. They will probably pay influencers far too much money to gain word of mouth. They will parse through dozens of reviews to find one critic who types the phrase “one half of this year’s Barbenheimer” to paste the phrase on all their posters regardless of the context in which the critic uses the phrase in their review. They’re going to try because they can’t imagine the simple truth that they’ve stretched themselves too thin.

In the beginning of the studio system, studios found a niche. There would be the occasional foray against type, Warner Brothers would eschew a gangster picture for a drama, Universal would try out a comedy rather than another creature feature, but they knew what they were known for and generally tried to stick with it. This system eventually broke down, much as sound replaced silent, color replaced black and white, and digital replaced film. It seemed for a while there like the next big shift was that movie theaters would be replaced by home streaming. Yet, even after a global pandemic that nearly destroyed movie theaters as an industry, there seem to be hints that the projection booths have a little more life in them yet.

The studios seem to have found a way to strike a bit of balance between their streaming ambitions and the movie theater ecosystem. The Super Mario Bros. Movie lasted several months in theaters and Universal, the studio that released it, waited until there were only a few showings a week and the money was trickling in slower to announce the film’s premiere on Peacock, the studio’s streamer. Alternatively, Amazon Prime, guiding MGM, did a slow release of Saltburn into U.S. theaters and as the anticipatory indie crowds began to fade during the deluge of prestige at the beginning of December, the streamer quietly placed it among the offerings for members a few weeks after its theatrical run began.

It’s always a risk trying to build an audience for original films. It’s even more of a risk to stay in a niche. Just ask beloved indie studio/cult A24 as they attempt a pivot toward IP, action, and profitability. But with a built-in buffer in place of both the booming VOD market and streamers that belong to the studios themselves as well as Netflix purchasing the rights to back catalogs and Sony releases, the film ecosystem could actually begin to evolve into a model that benefits a diverse array of offerings at movie theaters and a more egalitarian distribution model. They just have to take several steps back, stop stampeding toward something that’s the same as everything else, and create quality not quantity.

History shows that movie studios will find a way to survive and evolve. Typically by piggybacking off of one of the other’s better ideas to diminishing returns. Their greed for influence, market share, and being first knows no bounds. We can only hope that they understand the power of the movie theater, that exclusivity is only as good as the overcrowded platform that claims it, and that while we hungered for nostalgia for a time, we leave our houses more and our navel gazing has turned to wanderlust, a searching for the unknown and radical.

Before I got around to actually watching Rebel Moon: Part One – A Child of Fire, I stumbled on the trailer for Rebel Moon: Part Two – The Scargiver. I didn’t know it at the time, but I was seeing some plot threads I was not supposed to know going into the first film. It didn’t really matter as I predicted each and every major plot point from, about, the opening narration and developed a theory for the finale that I’m pretty confident I’m right about. But it doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to be in a dark room with surround sound and a screen that takes over my entire vision while watching it. It made me want to have seen and to have experienced They Cloned Tyrone, You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah, and Nimona with an audience. 

Films are better with other people, not just your friends, roommates, or immediate family who walk by the TV and loudly interrupt with questions about the plot or what’s for dinner, but other people you can’t predict, strangers who might also have tears in their eyes, or laugh at what you laugh at. Maybe one day Netflix will find that they don’t hate making money in addition to their subscriber base. Maybe the next Knives Out will get an actual theatrical run because a five day theatrical run is ludicrous and completely, embarrassingly incomprehensible when the original film grossed over $150 million dollars domestically. 

The theatrical experience has changed, but it can always swing back to bring audiences to something unique again. All it took was a woman trying to find herself and a scientist succeeding at turning theory to fact and immediately regretting it to get people to wonder if there is a world out there beyond shared universes, reboots, requels, sequels, and legacyquels. We learned in 2023 what we’ve known since grade school, homework sucks. Here’s hoping the studios and streamers take the lessons of the past year to heart and let us have class outside the box more often.

Movie Review: ‘Force of Nature: The Dry 2’ Meanders Through Mystery


Director: Robert Connolly
Writers: Robert Connolly, Jane Harper
Stars: Eric Bana, Anna Torv, Jacqueline McKenzie, Deborra-Lee Furness, Robin McLeavy, Sisi Stringer, Richard Roxburgh

Synopsis: Five women participate in a hiking retreat but only four come out the other side. Federal agents Aaron Falk and Carmen Cooper head into the mountains hoping to find their informant still alive.


The huge Australian box office success of Robert Connolly’s The Dry is, to excuse the pun, due to optimal clear sky conditions. The primary reason it was a money maker for Screen Australia was timing. Australia was in between various COVID lockdowns. Many major overseas releases had been rescheduled. It was based on Jane Harper’s bestselling novel which spoke to the impact of climate change on a rural community after the in real life Australia had suffered devastating bushfires in 2019. And finally, it starred one of Australia’s most bankable and likeable stars, Eric Bana as the detective Aaron Falk.

Prefacing why The Dry was a homegrown hit is not devaluing the film which is a solid piece of Outback Noir (sometimes termed “yeah, noir” based on idiomatic Australian language usage). 

It followed a familiar formula. Big city detective returns to hometown to attend a funeral and gets caught up in what could be related cases. One coming straight from his guilt ridden past. With two timelines working through the film, Falk as a teenager when his girlfriend drowned in a local swimming hole, and Falk as an adult, when, due to drought, the entire riverbed is dry, and the small farming community is a tinderbox waiting to ignite.

The setting of rural Victoria did as much storytelling as Falk did detecting. Unravelling his past and the present of the town he left behind. The psychological state of a mostly office bound Federal police detective working in financial crime needs to have something to anchor it. Remorse and redemption were Falk’s motivations.

Cut to 2024 and a strike which delayed the Australian release of Force of Nature: The Dry 2 and we are witnessing a perfect storm of why the film is not going to garner as much attention. Before one even looks at the quality of the film, which in no manner matches the first, there are too many other movies it’s up against. People are investing their attention in potential major awards contenders.

Context aside, Force of Nature: The Dry 2  is simply not as compelling nor competent as its predecessor. Falk’s role in Harper’s novel is functional, not particularly personal. He’s there to find an asset he’s been pushing to help bring down a corporate money laundering scheme.

Aaron Falk is back in his high-rise office in Melbourne. He receives a distressed call from Alice Russell (Anna Torv) who is acting as his informant against BaileyTennants, a conglomerate run by Jill Bailey (Deborra-Lee Furness) and her sneeringly arrogant husband Dan (Richard Roxburgh). The company has been using charitable donations to clean money from organized crime.

A corporate retreat for BaileyTennants employees in the Giralong Ranges (fictional) in the Victorian Alpine region becomes fraught when four of the women hiking through the dense winter forests are found traumatized but alive, but Alice is not with them. No one can genuinely say they know exactly where she is.

Falk and his partner Carmen Cooper (Jacqueline McKenzie) join in the search for Alice as she was carrying vital data taken the morning of the retreat. The local police force doesn’t appreciate the Feds stepping in, especially as they appear to be glorified forensic accounts. It’s up to Falk and Cooper to work out what happened during the hiking trip where the group went missing for days in order to possibly find Alice alive before a storm front sets in.

Time is of the essence for Falk and Cooper as they question the four women who made it back to the luxury accommodations. Jill, younger siblings and new employees Bree and Beth McKenzie (Lucy Ansell and Sisi Stringer), and Alice’s childhood friend and co-worker Lauren Shaw (Robin McLeavy). Before everyone can lawyer up, something that Daniel reminds Falk he might want to consider before questioning his wife and himself; Aaron and Carmen have to get clues as to Alice’s possible whereabouts from four confused and dissembling women with conflicting stories.

By rights, Aaron Falks should be the least interesting character in the mystery. However, Robert Connolly working in conjunction with Jane Harper, realized that one of the biggest draw cards for the franchise is Eric Bana. Interspersed with the present timeline is a thinly excused hunt for the very likely deceased serial killer Martin Kovac who was active in the area years ago. The local copper Sergeant King (Kenneth Radley) is more invested in finding Kovac’s base of operations; a shack where the women sheltered one night, as he is with finding Alice. Relatives of the dead are searching for the bodies of those who were lost.

Connolly and Harper decide this is a good opportunity to make the case a part of Falk’s past. Flashing back to years ago when he, as a child, was hiking with his parents in the same area. A momentary distraction on behalf of Aaron led to both he and his father Erik (Jeremy Lindsay-Taylor) losing sight of Aaron’s mother Jennifer (Ash Ricardo). She vanishes, possibly at the hands of Kovac and Aaron along with Erik searching for her for days.

Four timelines begin to emerge. The present-day search for Alice. The lead up to Alice agreeing to work with Falk and Cooper, and why. Aaron’s childhood, and the most interesting which is what happened during the hike.

Alice more than likely is already dead in the present – something for personal reasons Falk refuses to accept. The audience needs to know what happened over those days where the “Executive Adventures” hike went terribly wrong for the quintet of women so they can find a possible murderer.

According to Jill, Alice was meant to attend the team building exercise because she was a workplace bully. Something both Beth and Bree can attest to. Lauren seems so deeply disconnected and traumatized that she just stands atop a waterfall staring into the distance. She defends her friend. After all, Alice got her the job and covered for her when she was making mistakes during her divorce. Their daughters Margot (Ingrid Torelli) and Rebecca (Matilda May Pawsey) attend the same exclusive Grammar school. 

“Executive Adventures” tour guide and organiser Ian Chase (Tony Briggs) explains that everything was business as usual when he sent the five out. They had everything they needed for their hike. Supplies were set out. They had a map and compass. They made it to the first checkpoint where they were greeted with luxury hampers and drinks. Plus, the men from BaileyTennants who were doing their own version of the hike and met up with them on the first evening.

The theme, which should revolve around five women going into feral survival mode akin to Lord of the Flies, gets watered down to a “a bunch of incremental bad decisions led them to get lost,” both in the past and present. As the curtain is pulled back on what occurred, the focus is on decisions each woman makes. Going down the wrong path by presuming they are reading the map correctly, only to wind up lost. Jill berates Alice for being too harsh on Bree who was guiding them and tells her it’s symptomatic of her bullying. The confrontation leads to more mistakes happening. The map is lost. Lauren almost drowns. Beth and Bree start to distrust each other due to Beth’s past as an addict. Jill has presumed Alice is having an affair with Dan. Lauren remains mostly passive until she realizes Alice not only has a phone, but she’s planning on abandoning them all.  Yet somewhere in all of that there is a strange kumbaya moment where they sit and talk about stars, life, and love.

Jill with her fake thick and fashionable brows is the kind of woman for whom a lack of luxury is anathema. Lauren simply drifts and tries unsuccessfully to be a peacemaker. No one really cares what she thinks. The siblings aren’t strangers to difficult situations; but they’ve never been lost in a seemingly endless forest where roots can trip you, the ground is uneven, the canopy of trees rarely allows light, and it’s sodden and freezing. Only Alice seems to have a plan and that’s “my way or the highway.”

The sheen of civility is what has kept BaileyTennants from being fully investigated before. The company’s multiple donations to charitable funds is what makes them near untouchable. The parallel is that civility only works in controlled environments. There’s nothing controlled about “the force of nature that reveals us all,” when you are lost in a forest and no one is searching for you.

There is precious little to engage with beyond Andrew Commis’ cinematography of the region and a smattering of effective set pieces. Mostly this comes down to the uneven drip feeding of essential information to make the plot seem plausibly tense. 

Aaron Falk already had his trauma, redemption, and hero moments in The Dry. Rehashing the same ground for Force of Nature is a mistake. No one really wondered all that much about Jennifer Falk, so it wasn’t necessary to insert her into the place specific backstory. 

It is okay for the film to admit Aaron’s just a serious, somewhat damaged man with no outside life and a sense of empathy. It isn’t necessary to relegate his partner Carmen to a “We will get it no matter who it hurts, they’re all guilty of something” foil to make Falk more human. He doesn’t have to be the film’s most righteous feminist. Women can, and do, behave badly to each other. Psychological bullying is a specialty. Violence can happen between the “girls and ladies.” Privilege and social class aren’t erased by “sisterhood.”

What Force of Nature excels at is showing another side of the Australian landscape. Already the outback noir has its definitive detective in Jay Swan created by Ivan Sen. Ray Lawrence (Jindabyne) and Cate Shortland (Somersault) gave us versions of the Snowy Mountains. We have seen beaches and tropical locations more times than it is possible to list. But the inherently eerie, and at times deeply dangerous, winter forest doesn’t often get a big budget film to showcase it. 

Force of Nature: The Dry 2 mostly limps along as a mystery because it doesn’t decide where the audience should look. Usually, some obfuscation is what makes a mystery compelling. A few red herrings, and people with enough motive to want someone gone. Instead, the audience is given a stoic sad sack “hero” detective who resembles supermarket white bread. It’s a shame because Eric Bana is generally a fantastic actor. So are two Australian screen icons Jacqueline McKenzie and Deborra-Lee Furness. Richard Roxburgh’s performance seems to be just “We need a slightly extended cameo by a big name who can do menacing.” At least Anna Torv is given some gristle to chew and she dominates every scene she’s in with her changeable demeanour. It is also good to see Robin McLeavy on the big screen again after her breakout performance in Tasmanian horror comedy The Loved Ones from 2009. Sisi Stringer is a cast stand out. Her twitchy, guilt ridden Beth is the best performance outside of Torv’s.


If the thematic idea of the film is that the force of nature forces us to reveal our true natures is to work, then more time is needed to be given to the people central to the mystery. Force of Nature: The Dry 2 jettisons character backgrounds to the point where the audience is working overtime to infer meaning and proper motivation. It renders the work featureless and lacking teeth. Aaron Falk is neither the hero the film needs, nor deserves because there aren’t clearly enough defined villains except corrupt capitalism and keeping up appearances. A more apropos title would be Sodden: The Dry 2.

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘Argylle’ is All Twists and Turns, Leading Nowhere


Director: Matthew Vaughn
Writer: Jason Fuchs
Stars: Henry Cavill, Bryce Dallas Howard, Sam Rockwell

Synopsis: A reclusive author who writes espionage novels about a secret agent and a global spy syndicate realizes the plot of the new book she’s writing starts to mirror real-world events, in real time.


I imagine that during the studio pitch, director Matthew Vaughn and scribe Jason Fuchs sold Argylle as a fun spy adventure with twists at every turn. I’m almost certain that the words “spectacular,” “stunning,” and “remarkable” were never uttered and were intentionally left out because there is simply nothing surprising about any of the curveballs it tries to throw at the audience. Any spy cliche or trope you can think of, Argylle has it in spades. The result is a jam-packed film overstuffed with so much utter nonsense that you could call it an attack on the senses with diphenhydramine.

And that’s a shame because anyone who loves a good spy novel or movie should love Argylle. You have a great cast where Bryce Dallas Howard plays a socially reclusive author, Elly Conway, who spends too much time with her cat, Argylle, and not enough trying to find someone to share her life with. That’s her mother (the irreplaceable Catherine O’Hara) talking, who also adds the fifth book in the Agent Argylle series, which doesn’t have an ending that will appease her fans. However, her novels have hit too close to home.

At least, that’s what a stranger on a train named Aiden (Sam Rockwell) tells her before defending her against a couple of dozen armed assassins. Confusingly, Howard’s Elly keeps trying to run away from Aiden, the one man not trying to kill her, but we will get into that later. Aiden helps her escape and then tells her about a secret rogue organization called The Division, led by Director Ritter (Bryan Cranston), who wants to abduct Elly (and not her cat) to find out how she unwittingly knows so much about their dirty deeds that she puts to paper.

The film slogs along at 134 minutes. To put that in perspective, that’s on par with the last three of the Fast & Furious franchise, and some of the things that happen in Argylle are just as ludicrous. It’s hard to tell you just how much that’s true with facts because we cannot ruin it with spoilers. As much as I try to keep things cautious, most of this involves laying parallel narratives with Elly’s previous four Argylle novels, the current one she is trying to write, and the real-life mystery that places it all together. Frankly, Fuchs’s script thinks it’s smarter than it is.

Much of the film’s plot relies on red herrings or implausible common-sense connections. Not to mention the endless montages of a one-note joke comparing Henry Cavill’s Argylle to Sam Rockwell’s Aiden. When the film makes its big reveals, it’s more of a cheap trick where, if you look back, significant character decisions feel like filler and vain attempts to move the story forward. Vaughn tries to distract most of this with big names, handsome faces, the charm of its leads, and a cute cat. And to his credit, he nearly does.

Rockwell brings the type of mixed lunacy and folksy charm that has made him a household name. I could see the pairing of Henry Cavill and John Cena in a real-life buddy action comedy. I will admit the film’s best scene, involving a ridiculously goofy song and dance ballet of bullets, did put a wicked grin on my face. It’s so out of place but so entertaining that I almost forgave everything that came before it. 

Samuel L. Jackson’s cameo is a head-scratcher. He plays a former head of the CIA with a man cave filled with sports memorabilia, a ticker for stocks and sports betting, and a movie-sized screen for espionage and Lakers games. Personally, I was hoping this was Jackson’s real-life office, and he made the filmmakers bring the cameras to his doorstep in a power move built off his legendary Hollywood swagger and gravitas.


And that’s how distracted I was with the relentless onslaught of Hollywood nothingness that Argylle is (or maybe that’s just my crippling case of ADHD). Even the final scene and mid-credits scene are head-scratching. While I enjoyed the endless charm of Rockwell, you’ll be asking yourself, “Who cares?” until the final credits roll.

Grade: D+

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Will and Harper’ is an Essential and Honest Documentary


Director: Josh Greenbaum
Stars: Will Ferrell, Harper Steele

Synopsis: In this intimate portrayal of friendship, transition, and America, Will Ferrell and his best buddy of thirty years decide to go on a cross-country road trip to explore this new chapter in their relationship.


Legendary comedian Will Ferrell walks into an interview to appear as a talking head. Immediately, he begins to poke fun at the very style of documentary he is in the midst of making. From there, he details the relationship between himself and once SNL head writer, Harper Steele. The two met almost forty years ago, and in that time, have impacted countless lives through comedy. Ferrell comedically points out that if you’ve ever wondered why he would make a certain film or commercial, it’s because Harper was involved. An early champion of Ferrell’s comedy, the two have brought to life some of the most iconic SNL characters ever. Will and Harper are both such funny individuals, and together, they make a fierce duo. And with this new documentary, aptly titled Will & Harper, they are most certainly going to impact countless more lives. Harper is a trans woman, and having transitioned so late in life, she details her worry of renavigating, or possibly even losing, the friendships she has had for the majority of her life. Having not seen each other in quite some time, the two decide to take a road trip with one another. From New York to California, they travel down memory lane, but also down a new path; one in which the next stage of their friendship begins. And it’s absolutely beautiful.

Discussing the trans experience may seem daunting to some. Those with good intentions may feel nervous about hurting somebody they care about. Will & Harper pretty much avoids that entirely. Having been friends for so long, Harper makes it clear that she knows Will would never say anything with the intention of harming or offending her. So immediately, there is a tension lifted, and it makes way for an honesty that is essential to teaching others about Harper’s trans experience. Obviously, the trans experience is varied for countless individuals, but this documentary feels as if it’s a good baseline understanding of some common fears, worries, and joys. The levity among the two is a delight that will keep the viewer laughing consistently. It’s those moments which make the more vulnerable ones all the more impactful. 

For example, Harper goes through her journals from prior to her transition. She details the fact that her then therapist completely discredited the idea that she could be trans. If we can’t even turn to professionals in our time of need, what are we to do? This is one of the many situations in the documentary which emphasizes the essential nature of having a rock-solid support system in your daily life. Will Ferrell has always been beloved by many for his comedy, but the way he uses his fame as a platform to help Harper along her journey makes him that much greater. To think that many would spew venom and hatred both his and Harper’s way is utterly disgusting. At one point, Harper reads some of the vitriolic tweets directed at them upon partaking in a Texas food challenge. This moment, while glossed over a bit, feels essential in the disparate journeys the two are taking on this road trip. For Harper, comments like those aren’t necessarily easy to avoid giving any credence to. 

Personally, I feel that the documentary does a fairly good job of addressing the notion that Will’s fame is used as a bit of a shield. To clarify, that isn’t a bad thing! It’s just easy to imagine a scenario wherein some strangers they meet may mask their true feelings simply because they see Will Ferrell and cameras nearby. But notably, the duo at one point addresses this notion flat-out, and the documentary is all the better for it. The two admit this road trip is not the standard, and is controlled to some extent, but nevertheless, the emotional journey they take is as real as it can get. The two make many stops along the way, but one of the most moving is Harper’s stop back home in Iowa. It’s clear that she had a support system in her sister, who provides such a beautiful statement when Will asks what her reaction was to Harper’s transition. If only more of the country could be so accepting.

Harper spent much of her life traveling cross-country. Either hitchhiking or stopping her truck in the middle of nowhere, she would experience many parts of the country most people on either coast don’t think of or even know about. Unfortunately, many of those parts of the country may think differently of Harper. On their road trip, one wonders if Harper will still be able to feel comfortable, and safe, doing what she loves most: drinking a cheap beer in a dive bar. In interviews after the premiere, Ferrell admitted to having “zero knowledge” of the trans community prior to Harper coming out. While Will & Harper may not leave its audience with a complete understanding of the trans experience, one can only hope that it will leave them with two essentials: to remain a steadfast support for both our loved ones and even those we don’t know. And to not be afraid to ask questions and admit our lack of knowledge or experience, if only to better inform ourselves and improve as people. 

Will & Harper celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section. It was recently acquired by Netflix.

Grade: B+

Interview: Wim Wenders

Now nominated for Best International Feature Film at the 96th Academy Awards, we have been fans of Perfect Days (review can be found here) for quite some time. It is certainly one of the most beautiful films of the year, and deserves to be seen by the masses. When given the chance to speak with director and co-writer Wim Wenders, we jumped at the opportunity. Below, you can find the transcribed interview wherein Wenders discusses the concept of repetition, how this film is different from the other films in his legendary career, and what he feels is a perfect day.


Alex Papaioannou: How are you doing today Wim?

Wim Wenders: I’m fine, Alex. And yourself?

AP: I’m doing well!

WW: Where are you sitting exactly? Where are you?

AP:I’m in my bedroom in my apartment in New York.

WW: In New York. Okay. Okay.

AP: So, the most pressing question. I have to know, did you have a favorite toilet when filming?

WW: I couldn’t help but love the toilet by the architect Shigeru Ban the most. They’re the ones that are transparent, and when you go inside and lock the door, they’re opaque. I really love those. In the beginning, I was a little scared of them. Then, when we started shooting, I loved what you could do with the light, and how the sun going through the trees reflects on all the glass windows. We loved shooting in them. And luckily, there were two of them with two different colors. So, I must admit, we spent more time in them than in the others because, visually, they were just mind-blowing. At first, the idea of a transparent toilet was just a little too much. In the beginning, you’re scared to enter. Then you realize that you feel so good in it, and it’s really a great experience. So that became a favorite.

AP: They’re beautiful, as is all the photography in this film. It’s gorgeous. And one thing I loved in particular is how it’s very repetitive by design. There’s beauty to be found when looking at the same image multiple times. So do you find life to be repetitive by nature? Or is that something you found while filming?

WW: [He pauses]. Well, repetition is an incredible thing in our lives because most of us go through a lot of repetitions in our daily routines. Of course, Hirayama does have a routine. And routine, for most of us, is a word with a negative taste. And a routine is something you want to get through as quickly as possible, or get rid of it, or not have to go through it in the first place. But Hirayama has a very positive approach to routine because he very much lives in the here and now. So the routine is always something new for him, and each time he cleans the toilet, he does it as if it was the first time. And like any good actor, an actor creatively is meant to look like he’s doing things for the first time. So Hirayama lives it very strongly, and he looks at his work very much like a craftsman. And a craftsman is the sort of person par excellence to deal with routine or to deal with repetition. A potter makes the same pot 100 times, but each time is anew. And if he’s a good potter, his whole morale is that each time, each thing is unique, and only exists once. So in all these ideas about acting and about crafts, people went into the idea of how Hirayama lives in the moment, and how he lives a simple service job like he does, and how he makes it something much bigger, and much more transparent.

AP: The film was shot in 17 days, right?

WW: Yep.

AP: That’s deeply impressive. So with that, one thing about Hirayama. Like you said, he’s incredibly meticulous day in and day out, even sometimes multiple times on the same toilet. But when you’re shooting something in such a short timeframe, did you find that there was the ability to be incredibly meticulous? Or did you have to go with the flow more on this type of shoot?

WW: One thing if you shoot fast, you know, there is not much slack. So for a character and for the actor, it’s perfect. The actor doesn’t have to get in and out of his trailer. There’s no coming back out and needing to find his character again. He’s always in it. We never stopped shooting. And actually, we had a trailer for Koji [Yakusho], but he never saw it. [Laughs]. Only on the last day at the end of the last shot of the film he said, “Wim, is it true that you have a trailer? Can I see it?” I said, “What do you mean can you see it?” And he said, “I’ve never been inside, let me just see. I just want to catch a look inside.” So if you are working so fast and so relentless, you do come into a great, great flow. And you’re with your actor more than usually. And then you realize, you have to do something that’s already in the script. And that is part of the essence of his character. He’s reduced his life tremendously, he is living with only the most necessary things, and he doesn’t have more than he actually uses. His apartment is pretty empty, and he only has the essentials. So we realized as a film crew, we had to also just reduce ourselves to the essentials. So we eliminated all the fancy things you normally have at your disposal. No tracks, no Dolly, no crane, no Steadicam, no gimbal. Just nothing. Just a camera on the shoulders of the DoP [Director of Photography Franz Lustig]. And that’s how we made the film. And because we’re shooting so directly, and because Hirayama was always on set, Koji became the character so radically. So in the end, we also became radical, and after a few days, we started to shoot the rehearsals. No more rehearsing and then shooting. So more and more, we actually made a film with documentary methods about a very fictional character. And that is something I’ve never done in my life. And that’s one of the reasons why we could actually get away with a schedule like 17 days.

AP: Incredible. One more thing I’m also curious to know about involves the soundtrack. It’s phenomenal. It’s also a bit of a tongue-in-cheek play on the song “Perfect Day [by Lou Reed].” So I’m curious: in your eyes, what is a perfect day?

WW: A perfect day is certainly a day in which you’re not too lazy. [Laughs]. Laziness is a beautiful thing, but I’m just not good at it. I like doing things, and I like it if a day is full of things that you are happy to do, and you’re able to do them with your full concentration. That gives you a certain satisfaction. A good day and a perfect day is a day in which you see things that satisfy you. And a good day is certainly a day in which you have some time to listen to music and read a book. A good day is basically a day full of work that, at the end of the day, you have done what you wanted to do. You have met people and you have been in contact with them. You also know how to be alone. A good day is a day where you’re alone sometimes, and sometimes you’re with others. And those go with each other. And Hirayama is good at being alone. But he’s also good with others. He’s there. He sees them. For him, I mean, he sees more than others. He sees the homeless guy who’s invisible to everybody else. He sees them.

AP: That’s about as beautiful an answer as we can get, and I think it perfectly sums up the film. I think there’s no better way to end the discussion.

WW: Thank you, Alex. That’s very sweet of you. I wish you all the best.

List: Jaylan Salah’s Top 10 Overlooked Movies of 2023

What’s an overlooked movie? There are things with no solid definition, but an overlooked movie in an already too crammed a season is one that went unseen and forgotten, swept under the rug, or took a somewhat repulsive discourse that turned people off until further notice. Some people might have seen it but it didn’t garner that much hype or get the attention it deserved. For movies, 2023 was a spectacular year, balancing the perfect mix of the mainstream and art-house. Even with all the critical acclaim and box office successes, some movies were made with love and hope to find the right audience at the right time. I was the right audience for all the ones mentioned below, so bear (or enjoy) with me as I fawn over them.

10. Passages directed by Ira Sachs

If this movie doesn’t redefine the modern love triangle, then I don’t know what would. We’re in a new era, new times, and new definitions for everything pop out every minute. What’s a husband, a wife, a lover, a man, or a woman? These are all rigid concepts that need to be knocked to the ground. Passages reconstructs what it means to be chic, to be loved, to be unfaithful, to be the boy dancing in the club, to be the girl stealing someone’s husband, to be a husband, to be the center of a love triangle, and to be truly loved. Franz Rogowski is magnetic, dancing his way swiftly between genders and emotions. The scene when Adèle Exarchopoulos sings to him is sensual and beautiful, with a sublime connection to Mia Hansen-Løve’s or Claire Denis’s cinema.

9. Reality directed by Tina Satter

A claustrophobic, intense piece of realist cinema, Tina Satter derived her movie from the actual transcript of an FBI interrogation with Reality Winner, a 26-year-old former Air Force linguist and intelligence contractor who leaked top-secret government information. Sydney Sweeney played Reality with such masterful emotional and muscle control. Throughout the movie, Satter confined the audience to an empty, unused bedroom in Reality’s house, enduring the pauses, the muscle twitches, and the casual, filler conversations between the FBI agents and the young girl. The movie is one rollercoaster ride of a film. It will trap viewers in one sitting, never letting them go. The film is a masterclass in psychological analysis of how an interrogation goes, as well as the work that Sweeney put into having her face in front of a camera throughout the runtime, with every visible and invisible emotion drawn on it.

8. Theater Camp directed by Molly Gordon and Nick Lieberman

I love theater kids and that spirit of people coming together to create art. Theater Camp had a cozy, feel-good-movie vibe I hadn’t witnessed in any film last year. Yes, the directing wasn’t perfect, and it felt a bit rushed, and a bit chunky at times, but the loveliness of Ayo Edebiri, Molly Gordon, Amy Sedaris, Owen Thiele, and Jimmy Tatro made up for all the shortcomings. We need more films like that, making people feel like they belong. Movies like Dead Poets Society and Pride don’t exist anymore, but Theater Camp came and reignited that feeling of having a fictional group of friends and supporters. It’s a great film on a rainy day.

7. Priscilla directed by Sofia Coppola

Like many films directed by and about women, this movie has taken a strange discourse, one that buried its ulterior motive underneath tons and tons of misinterpretations or manipulating the narrative to be around the men. Priscilla has garnered multiple reviews, analytical videos, and think pieces, but the main conversation centered around comparing Sofia Coppola’s Elvis to Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis. Coppola’s anti-fairytale was doused in perfume and pink wallpaper to zoom in on a woman at the heart of manipulation, gaslighting, grooming, and possessive love. But it works, a great companion piece to Coppola’s filmography of trying to understand the transition from girlhood to womanhood. I know this movie had its share of exposure last year, but something deep inside me tells me it’s been dismissed at a certain point, forgotten like a sad Christmas light.

6. Bottoms directed by Emma Seligman

Every single woman I knew has been dying to watch something like Bottoms. Yes, the movie is primarily directed at a much younger female audience, but seriously a fight club for girls started by two outcast lesbians? I’m in! Everything about Bottoms is en pointe, from the funny, tongue-in-cheek dialogue, to the cast of some of Gen Z Hollywood powerhouse names (Edebiri, Gerber, Galitzine, and Sennott) not to mention Seligman’s deliberate and catchy directing style, taking us into a world of young girls not just fighting each other, but jumping and grinding at each other. The result is a sexy, awkward, enjoyable mess.

5. Showing Up by Kelly Reichardt

Some movies feel made for a particular person. Showing Up was made for me. It’s a small movie about people living small lives. Yes, they are artists with vivid imaginations and eccentricities but they’re going with the flow, like traveling pollens. Michelle Williams plays a scowling, reclusive artist while Hong Chau breathes air into her role as the fun and quirky artist, always hopping in and out of the arts community like the pigeon she saves. The movie is slow-paced, and nothing much happens on screen, but if someone wants to see a bond blossom between two completely different women in the most tangible of ways, this is their movie.

4. Monster directed by Kore-eda Hirokazu

When I want to watch something that encapsulates the heart of the real world, with a touch of tenderness, I run to a Kore-eda Hirokazu movie. He made some of the best films of the 2010s, such as After the Storm, Shoplifters, Our Little Sister, and Like Father, Like Son. He mixed his empathetic gaze with the minute details of the everyday lives of Japanese people, their struggles, and their familial interactions. Monster is a mother’s journey to uncover the insides of her son, and why his torment is so palpable. It’s a great movie about sexual awakening, coming-of-age, and how confusing the feelings between children could seem in the eyes of adults. It is a brilliant script by Yuji Sakamoto with great performances from the child actors.

3. Scrapper directed by Charlotte Regan

After the success of Aftersun, the father-daughter pairing of a hot twentysomething dude and a smarty pants girl is becoming a sensation. Harris Dickinson is a new face that attracts attention wherever he goes. His screen presence is dominant and grounded in both mystery and cool. Here, Dickinson teams with child actress Lola Campbell to play a father and daughter duo grappling with grief and acceptance of their presence in each other’s lives. Scrapper is kitschy in bubble-gum hues and weird camera work, but it mainly works for Dickinson and Campbell. Indeed, the Xavier Dolan-esque jump cuts and the intersecting video game sequences are a (satisfying) distraction from the heart of the film, but they are still enjoyable to watch.

2. Io Capitano directed by Matteo Garrone

Io Capitano has that color palette that would make Sean Baker proud, and that active mise-en-scène very distinctive of Italian cinema, a frame brimming with color and movement, the perfect actor blocking and scene composition. There are many points that the film misses about the reality of situations for migrants in European countries, but what matters is this modern retelling of a hero’s journey, through the eyes of two riveting characters, ones that audiences find easy to root for and care about. A film for the senses and a story to tell around the fire, even if the ending is too beautiful a fairytale to believe.

1. Asteroid City directed by Wes Anderson

The internal beauty of Wes Anderson’s Asteroid City made me fall in love with it. I loved it more when I found it on some Worst of the Year lists. A certain flaw made it shine. Anderson made it for someone who can handle the heat and the strong 1950s pastel palette, while still reveling in the performances. One that sparkled like a diamond was Scarlett Johansson’s Midge Campbell, a glamorous lonely movie star self-obsessed and faux-poetic. Jason Schwartzman was a delight to watch, and his three girls were an insane girl power magnet that stole all the scenes they were in. Asteroid City is a poetic, bright-colored mess, but it’s a mess that attracts people like me, and that’s sufficient.

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): A Selection of Shorts

The Rainbow Bridge begins with a comedic homage to 90s late-night ads selling the latest scam to anybody vulnerable enough to fall into the trap. The lunatic “scientists” in Dimitri Simakis’ short film may be onto something this time around. Promising to provide their customers with the ability to say goodbye to their beloved pets, Simakis baits the hook of the short with a premise that most audiences will be able to easily latch onto. Whether you’ve had a pet or not, such an opportunity clearly functions as an exciting possibility. Upon seeing the facility though, it’s apparent just how ramshackle this faux-operation actually is. Credit to the production design, because in all the vibrant props and set decoration is a ton of visual flair, that also feeds into the idea that, once again, these “scientists” are actually quite crazy.

The Rainbow Bridge was a part of the Midnight Short Film Program at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.

Yes, Say Hi After You Die is ridiculous. But then again, grieving comes in all shapes and sizes for anybody and everybody who experiences it. And Kate Jean Hollowell’s short film gets at that exact idea. There is no “correct” way to grieve. Instead, there’s just living one day at a time. And if one day you happen to feel that your friend who has passed has taken on the form of a porta-potty, who is anybody else to judge? This is a very fun short, with a musical sequence that makes me really want to see what a full-blown music video from Hollowell would look like. Come for the wacky premise and stay for the creative rumination on what we go through during some of the darkest days of the human experience.

Say Hi After You Die was a part of the Short Film Program 4 at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.

There’s so much static and extraneous nonsense in our lives due to technology that it’s a miracle anything gets done anymore. Ben Gauthier’s Flail is a frenetic short film that may as well be a cinematic panic attack come to life. Allie (Allie Levitan) is driving all across Los Angeles running errands for her boss’ birthday celebrations. But rather than just capture the usual concept of an assistant who is severely overworked, Flail displays the contemporary reality. From Tinder updates to various spam emails and push notifications for apps we likely used once and never again, Allie, and in turn the viewer, is inundated with countless pings. It’s a frightening experience that simply doesn’t let up, and all we can hope for is just a peaceful moment of quiet. This is a stressful watch, but it’s an incredibly tightly wound piece of filmmaking.

Flail was a part of the Short Film Program 4 at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.

Thirstygirl is able to both beautifully and silently capture the ways in which our internal battles control our every waking moment. Writer/director Alexandra Qin is able to depict Charlie (Samantha Ahn) as a woman both out of control yet completely able to slip a mask on when with her sister, Nic (Claire Dunn). It’s a short that flies by, really only featuring three or four sequences, but they do what great short films do best: effectively convey a central idea while leaving a thought-provoking kernel behind for the viewer to contemplate even further.

Thirstygirl was a part of the Short Film Program 2 at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Good One’ Interrogates Why We Escape Into Nature


Director: India Donaldson
Writer: India Donaldson
Stars: Lily Collias, Sumaya Bouhbal, Valentine Black

Synopsis: During a weekend backpacking trip in the Catskills, 17-year-old Sam navigates the clash of egos between her father and his oldest friend.


Why do some people feel the need to escape into nature? With her debut feature, Good One, India Donaldson examines the curious drive people have to get away from the harsh realities of everyday life into the calm beauty of the outdoors. But if this film is any indication, it’s that our problems don’t just stop at the edge of the forest we enter. On the contrary, they mask themselves in vague comments and upsetting remarks. We just handle them in a slightly different manner. And in the case of Sam (Lily Collias), she is forced to be stuck with her father, Chris (James Le Gros), and his friend Matt (Danny McCarthy), as they grapple with their own issues in the Catskills during a hiking trip. A quiet reflection on the experience of young womanhood, Sam is deemed “too young to be so wise” at one point in the film. What that character doesn’t realize is that women are more inclined to be, considering all they have to put up with from older men feeling they can say or do whatever they please.

One gets the sense fairly quickly that trips like these are a common tradition. The only difference, at least at first glance, is that Matt’s son bailed at the last minute, leaving Sam to fend for herself in terms of socializing. While she clearly enjoys hiking with her father, a last-minute father/daughter/unprepared friend trip is an entirely different experience in its own right. And before the trio even begins their 3-day hike, it seems as if this is a tradition that has become warped over time. What may have begun as a brisk reminder of the beauty of nature has now become an obligation. A yearly reminder that, even though their lives appear to be falling apart outside the woods, there’s a cohesion holding it all together. It’s a shame to think of beautiful memories that were made, becoming slowly bastardized by this sense of feeling as if you’re unable to turn down the trip.

A light, airy score opens up the film as we’re treated to lush woods and beautifully lit sights of the forest. It sets the stage for an experience where it feels as if anything could happen. We’re then suddenly whisked away to a New York apartment where the final preparations are being made. With it being New York, of course there’s a sense of everything and everybody feeling on top of one another. Sam might hope that a trip like this will allow her to feel freer than ever, but when Matt’s son drops out, she finds herself sharing a room with two grown men. The hum of the hotel bathroom fan is mere feet away, and that sense of being on top of one another is once again perfectly encapsulated without ever directly addressing it. Once the trio are actually in the woods, there is a sense of freedom… at least somewhat. It’s evident that Chris is very much a man who revels in his role of being a father, and all that comes with that title.

Whether he’s exclaiming “For crying out loud” or triple checking the location of an incredibly unnecessary item, Le Gros plays the role with just the right amount of cheesiness. There’s no question that, at least for him, these trips still mean something special. That’s not to say that Sam and Matt both don’t appreciate these hikes in their own way, but it wouldn’t be a massive stretch to imagine he would be the most hurt if the trip fell apart. So, his actions and reactions make complete sense, especially when you begin wondering if this trip is a last-ditch attempt at an escape from the troubles of reality. His job appears to be incredibly demanding, and over time, marital troubles reveal themselves. For Matt, Donaldson subtly hints that his marriage is falling apart until she quickly and abruptly confirms it. This is a film that revels in the serene beauty of the outdoors, but is also unafraid to remind us that any pain and fragility we showed up with will follow us along the hiking path. Yet, these three are on a hike where the goal should be to promote observation and understanding. Instead, it feels as if there’s a regression. Sam feels the most capable and comfortable in her own skin. And of course, leave it to a set of gross third act sequences to ruin the beauty and peace she is looking for.

As far as a debut goes, Good One is remarkable at holding its hand for as long as possible. It consistently upends you, albeit with subtlety. The beauty of nature should not exist merely to cover up our ugliness. To treat it as such on a yearly weekend trip feels a bit disgraceful. It’s almost as if, through this trip, Sam is beginning to see the harsh realities of the people around her and how they have warped what should be something beautiful. And after two brisk but patient acts, Donaldson all but razes the woods in service of her thesis statement. It’s a beautifully realized film, signaling the entrance of a filmmaker who not only has something compelling to say, but a fresh and powerful way to say it. While the very final moments may leave a bit to be desired, the way in which Donaldson leads us there is beautiful. Let’s hope that audiences don’t take that beauty for granted.

Good One celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the U.S. Dramatic Competition section, and is currently seeking distribution.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Molli and Max in the Future’ is an Intergalactic Rom-Com Space Opera


Director: Michael Lukk Litwak
Writer: Michael Lukk Litwak
Stars: Zosia Mamet, Aristotle Athari, Erin Darke

Synopsis: A sci-fi romantic comedy about a man and woman whose orbits repeatedly collide over the course of 12 years, 4 planets, 3 dimensions, and one space-cult.


Take a lot of When Harry Met Sally and a bit of His Girl Friday and set it in a retro-futuristic world filled with post and present millennial angst and you have some idea what Michael Lukk Litwak’s Molli and Max in the Future is doing. An intergalactic rom-com space opera and social satire with its heart firmly on its virtual and real sleeve. 

It’s “The Future” and Molli (Zosia Mamet) meets Max (Aristotle Athari) when their spaceships collide. He’s piloting his own “custom model” ship and she’s driving her Honda Civic of spaceships. He has no insurance, and she shouldn’t have been out there trying to harvest magic crystals. The meet-cute formula is absolutely as familiar as it should be. First, they are annoyed with each other. Then, they grudgingly become friends. That friendship becomes essential to both of them. But somehow, they never manage to turn the romance into a romance because their lives continually diverge. And yet, Molli, our earnest and sometimes naïve heroine constantly finds Max, our cynical and also naïve hero, and reunite over the years.

Molli and Max are quite literally from two different worlds. She’s from Megalopolis, the bustling NYC styled planet, and he’s from Oceanus – a place where the persecuted “Fish People” live and work in the mines. Max wants to escape the family business of the Rock factory (not exactly what you’d think it is, but a delightful reveal) and become a Mecha fighter. Molli wants to save the universe through interdimensional healing and worshipping the Gods in a battle between the Passionaughts and Conformsteins. He’s the aspirational working class to her new-age activist.

When they next meet it’s in a cab. Max, now MAKS, is a star in the Mecha world and is promoting Glorp Soda. He’s dating MAR14 (a sentient program he created, played with verve by Erin Darke) who can spin anything. Molli is becoming a space witch in the very obvious sex cult run by Moebius (Okieriete Onaodowan). How are they doing? Fine, thank you very much… and don’t even question it. Of course, they do question each other which leads to some home truths landing eventually when they meet again, and she has left the Passionaughts and he has been widely cancelled after selling out to the corporate overlords.

Life didn’t work out as either Molli and Max expected, and they are constantly having to re-invent themselves. What they do have, ostensibly, is each other. Molli gets involved with the dull and pliable ex-cult member, Walter (Arturo Castro) who she thinks she can change. Max has a relationship with Cassie (Paloma Garcia-Lee) a “modded” human who is consistently connected to every digital platform and doesn’t have a clue what she should be doing with any of the information.

Add to this mental health issues, menial jobs, toxic poisoning, dating apps, impending global doom via Turboschmuck (Michael Chernus) a Trumpian demon from the trash dimension who wants to commit genocide. Plus, angry pong playing as therapy while being dressed in outfits inspired by TRON and everyone just sleepwalking because Cheese Corp is keeping them in a Baudrillardian nightmare. Oh, and an Escher inspired dimension where Max becomes Schrödinger’s cat.

Molli and Max in the Future was filmed entirely against green screens and uses both digital and practical effects (gorgeous handmade models, repurposed obsolete tech). The 8- and 64-bit arcade game aesthetic melding into gloopy hand-crafted sex tentacles. There isn’t a trick that Lukk Litwak and his frantically inventive crew don’t try. From the make-up by Sara Plata, to the production design by Violet Overn, through to the cinematography by Zach Stoltzfus – every piece of the film is assembled to match the sensibility of the script.

“Love is the answer to everything” is one line we are fed consistently through our lives. It really isn’t. Even the Goddess of Love herself, Triangulon (Grace Kuhlenschmidt), is befuddled by what people do in her name. She’s also a bit of a bitch. Every decision that Molli and Max make have both potential cosmic repercussions and make not one iota of difference to anyone’s lives. The galaxy will be sucked into a black hole, maybe. Entropy might be the default setting of everything, maybe. Late-stage Capitalism exists in any configuration human beings come up with (Fish People, too). 

Michael Lukk Litwak knows everyone is tired and stressed. People overlook the very thing in front of them because they’re scared to confront what they feel deeply. Distraction is panacea and hope is vestigial. Molli and Max in the Future features excellent comic talents. Matteo Lane and Aparna Nancherla have parts, of course Aristotle Athari is an SNL alum, and Zosia Mamet starred in Girls and dozens of other touchstone film and television comedies. Combing the performances with a devotion to both the science fiction and romantic comedy genres generates sincerity via the surreal.   

Molli and Max in the Future is charming from its opening moments all the way to the brilliantly conceived ending which speaks to the circular nature of how the parts of ourselves we think we dispose of can be the very things that save us. The film is precisely the kind of energetic shove some audiences require to imagine just slowing down for a bit. Love is about choosing to embrace your messy self so you can choose what you deserve in life. Choose Molli and Max. Down with Turboschmuck!

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘The Peasants’ Nearly Revels in Darkness


Director: DK Welchman, Hugh Welchman
Writers: Wladyslaw Stanislaw Reymont, DK Welchman, Hugh Welchman
Stars: Kamila Urzędowska, Miroslaw Baka, Robert Gulaczyk

Synopsis: Jagna is a young woman determined to forge her own path in a late 19th century Polish village – a hotbed of gossip and on-going feuds, held together, rich and poor, by adherence to colorful traditions and deep-rooted patriarchy.


One difficult process in filmmaking is, essentially, matching. Certain styles match certain stories. One cannot, or should not, simply recreate a style, simply because it worked for a previous film. Some of our most popular filmmakers make this mistake. Do all of Quentin Tarantino’s movies need to be told out of order? Probably not. But that stylistic choice is expected at this point. Same with M. Night Shyamalan and twist endings, until relatively recently. And that brings us to a lesser known directing duo, DK and Hugh Welchman, creators of the Academy Award nominated, for Best Animated Feature, Loving Vincent.

The particular techniques used, creating animated frames using oil painting, was, for obvious reasons, a perfect fit for a film about the life, trials, and tribulations of painter Vincent Van Gogh. The Peasants, as you will likely be aware, is not about a painter. It is based on the book of the same name written by Wladyslaw Reymont. To briefly summarize, The Peasants is the story of Jagna Paczesiówna (Kamila Urzędowska), a stunningly beautiful peasant girl who, despite rumors of sexual behavior, is desired by men in the village. The dark story takes place over four seasons and tells a difficult truth about the dangers of a woman being desired, in more ways than one.

Now, although I said that this is a bad match, it does not mean that there is nothing to be gained visually from this particular style of animation. There are numerous sequences that are literally worthy of a gasp of appreciation. One absolutely cannot deny the craftsmanship and the amazing amount of time and effort that clearly went into The Peasants. Specifically, there are three segments that truly work with this style. As mentioned, the movie is split into four chapters, or seasons. These moments, as we watch the land literally change and move are breathtaking to witness. Additionally, the wedding and dance sequence are both stunners. This animation allows us to almost feel the texture and weight of Jagna’s dress and it is wildly effective.

Unfortunately, these moments are few and far between. The rest of the action, such as it is, is much more static. As such, there are many times in which the animation distracts from what is happening on screen. Given the darkness, almost impenetrably so, of the story, The Peasants is strong enough to stand on its own without said distraction or what sadly feels gimmicky. This is even more galling because the story itself is not gimmicky or standard in any way. Given Jagna’s forced wedding to Maciej Boryna (Miroslaw Baka), audience expectation is that the man that she loves, Boryna’s son, Antek (Robert Gulaczyk), would be much more kind, a romantic hero of sorts. These ideals exist within Antek, but he is also a married man with children who sells out Jagna’s good name at a moment’s notice. And this is the least of his crimes against the innocent. 

The Peasants does a wonderful job of having the audience root for Jagna, even as she is acting in a way that we know is inherently dangerous. Much of this has to do with Kamila Urzędowska stunning facial expressions and openness. But it must be noted that the directors pick and choose the perfect moments to focus on her and when to move outside to the judgmental townsfolk. This is another strength of the film. Upon introduction, both the women and the men of the village gossip and talk viciously about Jagna. They note her beauty and desirability, but also maintain that she is not to be trusted, both because of this beauty and rumors of her promiscuity. This promiscuity is mostly unfounded, but we all know that doesn’t matter. If it is believed to be true, it is as good as true. 

The ending of The Peasants will not be a surprise, though I won’t spoil it here. We all see it coming, because we know the trap of beauty for women in our culture and throughout history. We may wish for it to be different, but it would ring hollow if there was a white knight swooping in to save Jagna. She is pushed and pulled by the whims of a patriarchal society and, through our own anxiety, it comes crashing down exactly as we expect. It is a defeat, but a realistic one, sadly. The Peasants, if you can move past the beautiful yet distracting visual style, is a powerful and depressing story that hints at the dangers of beauty, the power of public opinion, and our own fear of female freedom and sexuality.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘The Underdoggs’ is a Mixed Bag, but Full of Heart


Director: Charles Stone III
Writers: Isaac Schamis, Constance Schwartz-Morini, Danny Segal
Stars: Snoop Dogg, Tika Sumpter, Mike Epps

Synopsis: Jaycen “Two Js” Jennings is a washed-up ex-professional football star who has hit rock bottom. When Jaycen is sentenced to community service coaching an unruly pee-wee football team, he sees it as an opportunity to turn his life around.


Streaming services are rapidly recycling movies to keep up with the streaming wars. Yes, the studio system and theatrical releases experience the same thing. However, the process is becoming commonplace due to its inherent competitive nature. The goal is to target a younger generation with classic stories as old as time. Now, telling stories from a different point of view is part of this. Yet, The Underdoggs exemplifies an exercise in AI plagiarism that lacks thought or care in the process or final product.

The film follows Jaycen Jennings (legendary rapper and actor Snoop Dogg), a former NFL superstar and self-proclaimed “top five” wide receiver of all time. After he retired early for slapping the you-know-what out of a tiny white kid who was heckling him, Jennings has fallen on hard times. He spends most days in his mansion tweeting at loudmouths like Skip Bayless, Jim Rome, and Stephen A. Smith-type sports show hosts (played by Chip Collins) because they’re low-hanging fruit.

After spending most of the day trying to get a hold of his agent, who won’t return his calls, he shows up at the office. After they turn him away, he berates a working man employed as a valet. Then, tight end Tony Gonzalez takes exception to Jennings’s treatment of the man. He tells the Hall of Famer to go, you know what, and talk to him when he gets a Super Bowl ring. He then drives his sports car into oncoming traffic and rolls the vehicle, becoming GIFs, memes, and daytime fodder for sportscasters everywhere.

Charles Stone III (Mr. 3000) directed The Underdoggs, working with a script from Grown-ish scribes Isaac Schamis and Danny Segal (based on a pitch by Constance Schwartz-Morini and Snoop Dogg himself, which means they likely didn’t do much). Their film rehashes almost any coming-of-age plus arrested development comedy we see when a man-child not only teaches kids about life – wait for that big lump in your throat – but Goddmit, they teach him! Of course, nothing as manipulative happens here in the sophomoric comedy, but it’s implied, and the sentiment falls short of being earned. 

Of course, it’s not that serious. Think of Hardball, The Mighty Ducks, and The Bad News Bears with lots of weed, bad manners, and even worse grammar. The script falls into the same cliche of taking a man who should never be around children to begin with and sentencing him to community service to avoid jail time. What’s his punishment? Teaching a bunch of foul-mouthed adolescents how the game is played. I can’t imagine any judge signing off on something so bizarre after at least anger management and drug counseling, but this is the world of make-believe, where child welfare and safety are never a matter of importance for those in charge of that sacred responsibility.

Most of The Underdoggs’ jokes fly as wide as a Buffalo Bills placekicker. When they do work, they are more amusing, yet forgettable. Mike Epps does have some buddy chemistry with Snoop. Schultz’s Chip Collins makes borderline racist comments that are insensitive. (I’m guessing the character’s show is on Fox News.) The issue is that they are played for laughs, so the ignorant won’t know better. I’ll admit, the one joke that made me chuckle was Jenning’s driving around with a podcast microphone hanging from the ceiling of his SUV for live podcasting to his fans.

The film is predicated on your love for the film’s star. If only Snoop Dogg had chemistry with his love interest, played by the talented Tika Sumpter, who has little to do here but get angry at anything said by the coach or her child. Perhaps, the biggest issue you can have with The Underdoggs is how uneven it can be, considering there is some positive messaging. 

There are moments when the main character misbehaves, yelling at children and grabbing their masks like no one should with anyone younger than a teenager. However, there are teachable moments for kids, between all the lewd comments and cursing, where Jennings will calmly and thoughtfully teach them how to be respectful teammates in their community. This is why it’s important to have films, especially in genre cinema, for populations with characters that can be relatable outside white middle-class America. 

I would love to say something snarky about The Underdoggs. Like, “Ultimately, the best advice this film can teach is what Snoop Dogg’s Jennings says: You must have a short memory. I assume the rapper forgot he signed up for this movie because of a smoke-filled memory. Please excuse me while I head down to the local cannabis dispensary while I try to wipe The Underdoggs from my memory.” However, it has its heart in the right place. That’s because it’s not bad, and it’s okay to enjoy the movie based on some of the positive attributes above.

You can, however, without guilt, wish the jokes were consistent and less repetitive, and the themes would come together for a more cohesive narrative.

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘Love and Work’ is a Labor of Love


Director: Pete Ohs
Writers: Stephanie Hunt, Will Madden, Pete Ohs
Stars: Stephanie Hunt, Will Maden, Frank Mosley

Synopsis: Diane and Fox love to work. Unfortunately, they live in a polarized world where having a job is illegal.


Pete Ohs is a director whose work should be on anyone’s radar if they are seeking out quietly subversive and philosophical stories delivered with sincerity and more than a dash of absurdist comedy. His love/hate relationship with Americana comes to the fore in films such as Youngstown (also starring Stephanie Hunt) which acts as both a comedy and commentary on rust belt towns. Originally raised in Ohio, Ohs blends genres to speak about how we make connections and why we do what we do. Teaming once again with Stephanie Hunt, Alexi Pappas, and Will Madden, and bringing on the excellent Frank Mosely – Love and Work is a labor of love about the love of labor.

In an alternate timeline, county ordinances have decided that the world simply has too much “stuff.” It’s now considered illegal to manufacture anything. Having a job which leads to a completed product is an offense that can see people be forced into coerced rehabilitation. People who want to work are part of an underground network who use specific code words. Diane (Hunt) is a serial offender who has crossed state lines to avoid prosecution. She ends up in what seems like a ruined industrial town with the sounds of trains and whistles haunting the background. She gets a job in a “factory” run by manager Hank (Frank Mosely). Their job is to assemble shoes. They are made of scraps of other shoes and don’t require to be wearable or in a pair. There she meets Bob Fox (Will Madden), and they develop a tentative romance.

The factory is raided by the productivity police and Vik (Alexi Pappas) lets Bob and Diane go with a strike warning. Hank is not so lucky – it’s his third strike and he’s out. Ohs, with co-writers Hunt and Madden, utilize both “employment speak” and “law and order” speak. Employees often operate under a three-warning rule before termination. Famously, America has implemented the controversial and often reductive habitual offender law across several states. Although the law can be used for keeping serious criminals incarcerated, it more often punishes those involved with petty theft or drug related incidents. In the timeline where Love and Work occurs wanting to work is akin to being a junkie (something Frank Mosely’s Hank displays with alacrity). 

Filmed in black and white in and around Corsicana, Texas and using 100W – Corsicana Artists & Writers Residency as the main stage, Ohs creates a timeless “sleepy town” which modernity passed by. The film is set both in the past, the present, and a possible future. It is truly a utopian dystopia (see also Everything Beautiful is Far Away). Losing their jobs as cobblers, Diane and Bob see a graveyard filled with the occupations which have been corporatized in some manner or turned into artisan pursuits. “The butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker,” of nursery rhymes are a dead class. 

The question arises if Diane and Bob’s relationship can continue to work if work is their primary focus. The pure joy of getting a job leads them to a drinking session where Diane cries out, “We’re getting hiiiiiiiiiired!” Of course, getting hired can also lead to getting arrested because people act as undercover narcs. Eventually, one of them will end up in a “time out,” being forced to relax and take up a hobby that ostensibly doesn’t contribute anything to society (although considering some of them are learning an instrument and making music, the idea of what contributes to society is deliberately skewed).

Stephanie Hunt is an immensely talented comedic performer and writer, and her Diane is nigh on perfect. Casting Will Madden (known for playing annoying “creepy guys”) as the romantic hero is a stroke of genius. Ohs is playing with the audience but has something specific to say about how we have all lost our ability to balance our time. To create the work/life balance and have let go of the satisfaction of doing something well. There is too much “stuff” around. We have become consumers on a granular level. It isn’t just the miles of landfill where fast fashion and discontinued Funko Pops end up causing a pollution crisis no one knows how to reckon with. It is also how we perceive creativity and work itself. 

People constantly laugh about mid-level-management, but what if your goal is to be someone who creates opportunities to work in an environment where unemployment is skyrocketing, and the wealth gap is baked into generational experience? Imagine telling a Nana that knitting a sweater for someone is a crime because there are already enough sweaters out there. Some parts of work are fuelled by the necessity to keep the lights on, others exist because they are acts of genuine grace. 

With the elegance and wit of Jacques Tati and a complex lacework script which points to where humanity is in their overworked, underpaid, and often not appreciated quotidian lives, Ohs has once again captured how hard it is to just “be” in a world where your job could be taken at any second by an algorithm and how hard it is to keep one’s personal relationships alive when the focus is on career and success.

The maxim “Work to live not live for work” is so often repeated it has become almost meaningless. People imagine not having to do anything. To have a chance to just stop and smell the flowers. Or a reversion to the idealized childhood state where, in the best circumstances, someone else took care of your basic needs and gave you the opportunity hang out in a playground and cry out “wheee!” on a swing set. It’s why there seems to be a collective amnesia about the fact that so far, no form of political or economic governance has come up with the solution for any society to function without labor. Late-stage Capitalism is bad, but serfdom was worse. 

Maybe, as the narrator of the film suggests “Wondering is a lot like working,” and maybe the solution exists in something that was instituted years ago. Ohs’ breezy and glorious romantic comedy is a trojan horse. He doesn’t want the audience working too hard to enjoy the film, but he has put in the work to make you love it and maybe you will take a second to just go do something you want to do for the sake of doing it. Or you can take a well-deserved nap.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Wanted Man’ Slogs Through Everything


Director: Dolph Lundgren
Writers: Dolph Lundgren, Michael Worth, Hank Hugues
Stars: Dolph Lundgen, Kelsey Grammer, Christina Villa

Synopsis: Follows a police officer who must retrieve an eyewitness and escort her after a cartel shooting leaves several DEA agents dead, but then he must decide who to trust when they discover that the attack was executed by American forces.


There’s been a real paradigm shift in American action movies lately, where A-list filmmakers/actors star in vehicles that harken back to the good ol’ days when Menahem Golan and Yoram Globus ruled the 1980s action sphere with their low-budget B-movies when all audiences had to do was sit down in front of a screen, turn their brain off, and enjoy the mind-melting maximalism on display. It put actors like Charles Bronson, Chuck Norris, and Michael Dudikoff in stable vehicles where all they needed to do was walk on screen and blow stuff up, delivering risible, reactionary dialogue in such a stilted, unengaging way it’s almost incredible that they would even lead a movie. 

Dolph Lundgren became a leading man through the Cannon Group pipeline with Gary Goddard’s Masters of the Universe. While his previous role in Rocky IV didn’t require him to utter many lines, the world saw Lundgren’s He-Man as a towering physical force but an actor who mumbled through serious dialogue as if he had a gun pointed at his head. In 2015’s Electric Boogaloo: The Wild, Untold Story of Cannon Films, Lundgren remarked that he “felt a little stupid doing it.” Perhaps he did, but its ramifications for his career were huge. With each subsequent effort, whether starring in Showdown in Little Tokyo, Universal Soldier, John Woo’s Blackjack, or even his numerous direct-to-video efforts in the late 1990s and early 2000s, Lundgren has seemingly tried to chase the same kitschy feel of a Cannon Group production. 

It’s no surprise, then, that his directorial efforts have the same feel, with Missionary Man, Command Performance, The Defender, and, most recently, Castle Falls, harkening back to the Golan-Globus days of mindless action pictures with a brutal action star at its forefront delivering justice to the ones who need it. His latest movie, Wanted Man, sees Lundgren direct himself as Mike Johansen, a veteran cop who has been caught in an accident where he hurled racist slurs at a Mexican immigrant. While Johansen believes he had it coming, considering the man was transporting trafficked women in his truck, his chief doesn’t think his actions were appropriate and forces him to go back to Mexico to perform a job for him, or he will lose his badge. 

The mission sounds simple enough: retrieve two eyewitnesses who have key information on the assassination of two DEA agents during a cartel bust from jail to the United States border. However, it goes predictably wrong, with corrupt police officers from Mexico looking for the two and Johansen, who shoot their car in a drive-by. Johansen ultimately gains the upper hand but is shot in the spleen, requiring medical attention. The setup is formulaic enough but gets the job done from point A to point B, and the audience knows it won’t be a simple witness retrieval. 

However, what comes after grinds the film’s pacing to an unbearable halt when Johansen is handcuffed to a medically supervised bed in Rosa Barranco’s (Christina Villa) family home. For a good chunk of the runtime, he sits on the bed and discusses his next steps with Rosa, when we know exactly how it’ll go down: the American cops can’t be trusted, even if they are Johansen’s partners, and will be revealed as the ones who killed the DEA agents in an attempt to save face. Of course, one has to figure out who. It’s quite simple: if Kelsey Grammer is in your film, it’s probably him. 

There are virtually no surprises in Wanted Man. Everything is laid out in front of us: from the reactionary dialogue from Johansen knowing that he will ultimately have a change of heart once he realizes that all of us are different and deeply human to the partners who absolutely are bad guys, it doesn’t take long to figure out exactly where the film is going. In fact, if you’ve seen a Cannon actioner where a [white] protagonist saves someone of a different ethnicity from bad [white] guys, Wanted Man takes the same template but has little more to offer. 

It’s a bit crazy to see the similarities laid out, with Johansen fully trusting the American justice system and only believing the bad cops are on the other side of the border while American ones serve their country. That’s a fairly conservative way to view things, but at least Lundgren attempts to give his protagonist a redemption arc, where Johansen finally sees the weight of the problem through Rosa’s eyes. And credit where credit is due: Lundgren directs himself quite well and shares a somewhat palpable chemistry with a charming Christina Villa. 

But the rest of the film is a complete wash: the grittiness of Lundgren’s earlier directorial efforts seem completely removed from action scenes that have little emotional and cathartic impact. You would think someone who worked with Sylvester Stallone, Roland Emmerich, John Woo, John Hyams, and, most recently, James Wan, would know a thing or two about directing action, but Lundgren’s action direction is almost non-existent, with many scenes breaking key notions of photography, almost as if he just wants to get the shoot over with and move on to the next project. 

Of course, one can’t blame Lundgren for wanting to do so if that is the case, as the actor recently revealed he has been battling kidney cancer since 2015 and was told by his doctors that he had two to three years left to live in 2020. You can feel his exhaustion both in front and behind the camera, which makes the release of Wanted Man not just commendable for Lundgren’s passion for entertaining the masses, but as a testament that he still wants to be here, making movies for all of us. It’s just a shame it’s not worth our time, but at least it continues the hopeful trend to finally resurrect The Cannon Group brand once and for all. If Orion Pictures rose from the dead, anything’s possible. 

Grade: D-

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Ibelin’ is a Touching Ode to the Legacy of a Gamer


Director: Benjamin Ree
Stars: Zoe Croft, Kelsey Ellison, Ed Larkin

Synopsis: Mats Steen, a Norwegian gamer, died of a degenerative muscular disease at the age of 25. His parents mourned what they thought had been a lonely and isolated life, when they started receiving messages from online friends around the world.


Ibelin, the documentary by filmmaker Benjamin Ree, feels like one of, if not the, most moving odes to video gaming imaginable. The reason being is that it is based around a deeply moving story about a young man named Mats Steen. Mats had Duchenne muscular dystrophy and sadly passed away at the age of 25. Yet Mats was also Ibelin Redmoore in the incredibly popular video game “World of Warcraft.” Whereas his parents thought Mats lived a lonely life isolated to his video games, Ibelin proves otherwise. With a massive archive of in-game chat logs and Mats’ blog to pull from, Ree enlists the help of animators and narrators to recreate moments in Mats’ life. It is a deeply touching documentary for a myriad of reasons, perhaps none more so than the simple fact that the impact simple gestures can have on the lives of those around us is truly unimaginable.

A majority of the documentary is actually recreated via animation in “World of Warcraft.” It struck a personal chord in me as this harkened back to the days of when Machinima was becoming immensely popular. Within it, there was an entire new artform that was paving a way for a variety of new stories to be told. And it all happened within the medium of video games, which, in my opinion, have always been an artform that has been belittled and unfairly ridiculed. Many of the individuals (Mats’ guild members) interviewed admit that people in their lives couldn’t comprehend the notion that there were actual friends to be made in the game. It’s an immensely reductive outlook on video games that has existed since the very creation of online gaming. To think that people you know through online means cannot have an impact on your life is wholly upsetting. The greatest success of Ibelin is in how clearly it dispels that myth.

Upon Mats’ passing, countless individuals he had met in “World of Warcraft” reached out to his parents recounting the experiences they shared with Mats. To see and hear from members of his guild all these years later is so touching. It’s a reminder that, even though the Internet (or more specifically social media) feels like it pulls us further and further apart, genuine connections can be made that will forever leave a mark on the life of a person. One needs to look no further than the connection between a mother and son that Mats helped foster. Having done so without meeting in person, or even using voice or audio chat, it’s a testament to the immeasurable spirit and good-heartedness of Mats. The real-life impact of helping others is felt in both directions, as Mats not only did all he could to help those beside him, but it allowed Mats to feel part of a community and to experience all the things he thought he’d never be able to. Love, freedom, even drinking at a bar! The in-game footage is so much fun, and delicately crafted to elicit emotions in the viewer in a way that feels real. Because to all those players, their emotions and feelings unequivocally were.

Another wonderful element of the documentary, albeit one that could have, and in my opinion, should have, been explored more, are the essential tools Mats used to play “World of Warcraft.” In the last few years of Mats’ life, he only had the ability to move his hands. As such, a set of accessibility tools were used in order for him to continue playing. While there were some shortcomings in the technology at the time, some gaming companies have sought to make their consoles and technology all the more accessible. The Xbox Adaptive Controller released in 2018, and is beloved by many for its accessibility customization and price to ensure that anybody who wants to find themselves in, in Mats’ words, “A gateway to wherever your heart desires,” will have the ability to do so. While there’s still a long way to go in the world of making gaming more accessible and more understood by the world at large, Ibelin is a beautiful stepping stone in the right direction.


Ibelin celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the World Cinema Documentary Competition category. It was acquired by Netflix, and will presumably release later this year.

Grade: B-

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Dìdi’ Captures 2008


Director: Sean Wang
Writer: Sean Wang
Stars: Izaac Wang, Joan Chen, Shirley Chen

Synopsis: A 13-year-old Taiwanese American boy discovers skating, flirting, and the true essence of maternal love beyond his family’s teachings.


There’s not going to be any sugarcoating when it comes to how I write about Sean Wang’s Dìdi. This film basically crystallizes the summer of 2008 in cinematic amber. Those insane home videos made among friends where you feel invincible. Having a drawer full of Livestrong bracelets that became so melted and slimy from heat they became gross to the touch. Messaging friends or your crush with the most ludicrous grammar imaginable. Writing and deleting countless drafts before deciding to go with the option that has the least personality possible. It’s incredibly apparent that this film is mined from the most personal memories of Wang’s childhood. Yet magically, the moments in our lives that feel hyper-specific are often the ones that resonate the most universally. It’s very possible that I hadn’t thought about Touchdown Turnaround by Hellogoodbye since 2008, but the moment it pops up on a character’s MySpace page in the film, memories came flooding back at a rapid rate. Dìdi effortlessly opens the floodgates of memory for its viewer in a way that is so magical, and incredibly representative of the power of cinema. For Wang, it’s clear that making this film was deeply cathartic. For the audience, it’s a laugh-out-loud trip down memory lane with a heart of gold. Most importantly, it captures the pivotal notion that emotional openness is crucial to growing up, and that perhaps the biggest shame of many youths is that they are too afraid to open up emotionally.

Dìdi is so painfully sincere in capturing an age that is anything but. The decisions we made at 13 are completely based on this innate desire to be liked. Obviously, there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be liked by your peers, or even the older kids. It’s only when we begin reshaping our true selves that it becomes a disservice to the true person we’re supposed to be. In the end, it’s all part of that experience of what it means to grow up. We make mistakes, and find ourselves in situations that we were so excited for, only to realize how deeply panicked they make us. We lied to make a Facebook account, we lied about the movies and music we like to impress those we have a crush on, we lied to our peers about being more sexually experienced than we actually were. Is it wrong? Maybe. But it’s all based in this innocent desperation to be accepted as an equal. And Izaac Wang’s performance as Chris Wang paired with Sean Wang’s observant direction is a match made in heaven. We follow Chris’ mouse as he slowly looks over Facebook status’ and AIM messages. We see him overthink just exactly how he’s going to try and win over the heart of his crush, Madi (Macaela Parker). Chris is clearly yearning as much as any 13-year-old does. We’re only able to recognize it after having gone through it and learned from it.

So with that hindsight in mind, Wang described this film as “a thank you and an ‘I’m sorry’” to his friends and family. Dìdi is a film that acutely understands the complex duology that lives in most 13-year-old kids growing up. On the surface, a kid like Chris may show little to no emotional intelligence when interacting with his peers. He’s practically incapable of displaying any emotion, other than laughter when one of his friends disses the other with the most out-of-pocket thing you could imagine saying to another person. Yet deep down, Chris, and all other adolescent kids, are controlled by these inexplicable feelings. It’s a constant struggle on what the proper reaction should be in any given situation, and leave it to the seemingly thoughtless older kids to call Chris on it in a sequence where he yells at his mom for fear of being embarrassed. At that age, it’s so easy to find ourselves completely lost within our heart and mind as we attempt to grapple with the world at large. Self-image at that age came from how others viewed us, and in that moment, it was the only thing that mattered. How unfortunate that 2008 was a time period in which emotional honesty was shackled behind the fear of being made fun of by other friends or class bullies.

For example, out of the blue, Chris receives a message from Madi asking to hang out. We see the message he types on AIM, one that shows his clear excitement. Chris then deletes it with haste, only to send the all too common, “nm u?” that we have all sent at least once in our adolescent lives. When Chris’ mom, an artist, shows him a beautiful painting she made of a moment in time from a trip to the beach long ago, Chris’ first comment after a quick, unenthused glance is how he looks stupid. His only thought is how a friend might use it as something to poke fun at if they came over. It’s an interaction that stings deeply, and most viewers will likely have some similar instance of comparison to their lives. Even in the most reckless of situations, we might have found ourselves rushing in with the hopes of being labeled cool. A bunch of guys wrestling in the park leads to Chris getting a black eye, and it certainly helps Chris’ self-esteem that Madi was there to watch it happen. As somebody who accidentally wound up with a black eye around the same age as Chris, the attention the next day unequivocally made it all the better. It would be crazy to ever reveal how upset it actually made us in the moment, wondering why we ended up with it in the first place. That constant worry of being perceived as cool was always overcome by the knowledge that being too “in touch with your own emotions” was anything but cool. Even so, Dìdi is a film that is incredibly in touch with emotions, even if Chris may feel utterly lost by his own.

We see unbridled anger and fear as his friends take his phone while in the middle of texting Madi. There was simply nothing scarier at the time. We see misunderstood remorse as he calls strangers names thinking it would come across as humorous. There’s a deep uneasiness and fear as we overhear and catch glimpses of an intense familial argument. And in that same vein, there’s a comfort and warm solace when our sibling gets us out of that situation without hesitation. So much of Dìdi captures these emotions perfectly, but when channeled through Chris, those emotions become warped by the time and place with which the story so crucially takes place. These moments in our lives that we look back on with a touch of nostalgia and a lot more cringiness are the moments that may have defined who we have become. But also, they are representative of a time when many of us didn’t know any better. It’s only in hindsight that we’re able to see why we made all the choices we did. Quite frankly, growing up was, is, and always will be, a tough and confusing experience. But sometimes it’s as simple as receiving the slightest of nods from a friend to let us know it will all be okay.

Dìdi celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the U.S. Dramatic Competition section, and is currently seeking distribution.

Grade: A-

Interview: ‘Stress Positions’ Director of Photography Arlene Muller

Celebrating its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival, Stress Positions is a chaotic film starring John Early and directed by Theda Hammel. Taking place in New York in early 2020, I was immediately taken by the look of the film and how well it captured that specific moment in time. Below, you’ll find a transcribed conversation with Director of Photography Arlene Muller in which we break down her approach to the film. We also discuss music videos, Early as a comedic legend, and the interesting challenge of not only shooting in a New York brownstone, but adding hurdles via shooting through environmental obstacles. Check out the conversation, and be sure to check out Stress Positions! 

Stress Positions premiered at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the U.S. Dramatic Competition section, and it will be released by Neon later this year.


Alex Papaioannou: So, again, thank you for taking the time to speak with me. I saw Stress Positions this morning and really liked it. Are you from New York? 

Arlene Muller: I am originally from New York! I grew up in Brooklyn.

AP: So I’m curious, what is it about filming in New York that excites you the most?

AM: So I’m a huge fan of the Safdie brothers and Sean Price Williams, and I think that chaotic, New York energy is what excited me the most about this film. I think you can definitely see it in the visuals, the storytelling, and the editing. Actually, the gaffer on the film was a key grip from Good Time. And so, it was interesting to have that energy in an ensemble comedy. Because this isn’t an action film, but in a way, it has action film energy. The stakes seem so high all the time. Even if it’s just someone coming over, you know, like Theda’s character, Carla coming and seeing the male model. The stakes are just so high and it’s so intense. And John Early’s performance is so high stakes. And that’s New York. It’s a high stakes place. So that kind of energy makes sense for this film.

AP: Definitely. And it being set in early 2020, it captures a very specific… insane, moment in time.

AM: [Laughs] An unhinged moment in time!

AP: [Also laughs]. It hits very hard.

AM: One of my friends saw the film this morning, and when they came back were like, “I loved it. It’s so unhinged.” And I think that’s something that our generation in particular, like the people who are involved in making the film, could really relate to specifically with regards to COVID, but also with regard to millennial culture.

AP: One more thing about New York. I’m always interested in films shot on location there due to such a variety of architecture across the city. And the brownstone in the film is a perfect example of that. It looks like 3 or 4 floors. I’m just curious what the prep was like leading up to shooting?

AM: Yeah, we were able to prep in the brownstone, and Theda was doing rehearsals in there, too. So we were able to do camera rehearsals there, which was great, because that would allow her, as a first time feature director, to see how the shots could be. And then obviously, we also improvised on the day, as well. But it was definitely great to have a sense of what we were getting into. We were there at least a week or two before we started shooting.

AP: Was it already abandoned?

AM: [Exclaims] Yes! It was crazy there. There were plumbing issues and everything. Like, our producers jumped through many physical hoops to get everything together. Even to a point where we could use the restroom during production. Stuff like that. They had the production office upstairs, so my crew was constantly running up and down the stairs, going to charge batteries. There’s obviously no elevator, you know? So everybody got a workout.

AP: I want to go back to having the film take place in 2020. You’re shooting a lot through plastic covers, or people with masks. Even gas masks! So, what was the approach to that as far as the look of it all, and, you know, capturing an image through a cheap plastic cover?

AM: Physical barriers and obstacles are a huge part of the visual language of the film. And that was something that Theda really wanted to come through. The idea was that things were difficult for people. And visually, those obstacles make the sort of tension of the film more apparent. That was definitely part of her plan. That’s a great observation.

AP: [Laughs] Thank you. Keeping with the visuals, there’s a lot of instances where light is just going off the rails. I think of the disco ball rolling down the stairs in the beginning, or when the camera is facing the projector and we just see bright, colorful light. How did you plan that? Did it come about on that day? Is that something you’ve had in your mind working over the years?

AM: I think a lot of that stuff came naturally. We were looking for ways to make the image a little bit jarring. In the beginning of the prep, Theda said that she wanted images that were really truthful to the feelings that the characters were having. She didn’t want to be precious, and that was something that carried through the film. We weren’t looking to create something that was like the perfect, harmonious world, because this isn’t a perfect, harmonious world. So all of that stuff, from the lens flare to the strong and jarring light, plays into that idea of “This is what the characters are feeling.” This is their point of view.

AP: So, I love talking with people who work in film, who have also worked in music videos. I find the world of music videos to be its own little sub-section of film, and it’s always so interesting seeing the jump to shorts and features. I’m curious if you feel what you’ve pulled most from your music video experiences?

AM: Well, I don’t have that much. I’ve mostly stayed in narrative.  But I’m actually actively trying to do more music videos, because it’s such a wonderful way to be creative visually. So I would say that experimenting with angles, using wide angle lenses, really tight shots. That’s some of the stuff I can say I’ve pulled from. And not just from my own music videos, but also just my experience loving music videos.

AP: Do you have any favorites?

AM: You know, I really love Chris Ripley’s work, like I love “Thot Shit” by MeganThee Stallion. I just love music videos that are shot on 16 millimeter. I love stuff that’s really inventive and that pushes the envelope. I love Tyler The Creator’s music videos. I’m really a big fan of hip-hop. A$AP Rocky music videos. [Animatedly] Okay! Favorite would have… What’s the one with the hook that has the flute in it? [Starts whistling].

AP: “Praise the Lord”?

AM: Such a brilliant music video. Yeah. I mean, all his music videos are amazing.

AP: Agreed. Him and Tyler have a very distinct vision.

AM: And, you know, there’s a frenetic energy in music videos that’s really exciting. And I think we have some of that energy. A lot of whip pans and zoom ins and zoom outs.

AP: Definitely! I love it. And speaking with regards to frenetic energy, the film was shot in 24 days, right?

AM: 24 or 25, yeah. We may have had a couple of extra where Theda went out with her own camera.

AP: So, obviously that’s a very tight shoot. And I’m curious, did it feel like that on set? Or was it just freewheeling, and kind of going with the flow?

AM: I have to say, I’ve worked so much in the low budget, indie world. So that’s a pace that I’m very used to. But absolutely, it was very tight. Everybody was giving it their most. There’s 110% of energy on every day that we were shooting. You could feel it.

AP: Did John Early have to do many falls from the hose spraying into the window? [Laughs]

AM: You know what? Honest to God, he’s such a pro that the answer is no! He is a comic goddamn genius. That man is insane. He did not do a lot of takes for it, and he barely rehearsed it either. Maybe like three times. That was actually one thing we were all talking about: he didn’t have to rehearse his falls. He’s so good!

AP: A great pratfall goes a long way. And speaking of John Early, he’s a comedic legend at this point. Was there a lot of improv on set or was it more of sticking to the script? Just curious what it was like working with him.

AM: No, it was very carefully rehearsed. He rehearsed a lot with Theda and with Qaher [Harhash], especially the birthday party scene and scenes like that. It was pretty immaculately rehearsed. I would say that he’d improvise within the confines of the lines, but there wasn’t a lot of wild improvisation of lines and stuff like that.

AP: Gotcha.

AM: Although I have seen him improvise on other stuff that I’ve worked with him on, and he’s a genius.

AP: I can imagine any B-roll with him is a lovely time.

AM: Yeah, he’s a genius.

AP: So, looking forward. You said you wanted to get into music videos, but do you have anything upcoming that you’re excited about?

AM: I have a 16 millimeter short that I’m shooting in Australia, which I’m super excited about. She’s done a short film and this is her second short. It’s sort of a dreamy exploration of a woman who’s experiencing hearing loss. So it’s a very visual, emotive film.

AP: Do you work often with 16 millimeter?

AM: Yeah! I own my own 16 millimeter package, and I just love it so much. I love 35 [millimeter] too, but it’s harder to convince people to shoot on 35 because of the cost. It’s a little easier to go for 16.

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Thelma’ Features the Next Great Action Star


Director: Josh Margolin
Writer: Josh Margolin
Stars: June Squibb, Richard Roundtree, Parker Posey

Synopsis: When 93-year-old Thelma Post gets duped by a phone scammer pretending to be her grandson, she sets out on a treacherous quest across the city to reclaim what was taken from her.


It’s only fitting that a film which includes the next greatest action star in cinema pays homage to the current greatest action star. That’s right, the baton Tom Cruise has gripped for decades is now being passed to an unquestionable star. She’s been nominated for an Academy Award, she’s had dozens upon dozens of film and television credits, and she’s 94 years old. I’m talking about June Squibb, who portrays the titular heroine of Josh Margolin’s Thelma. An ode to action films, and Mission: Impossible in particular, Thelma is a riotous time at the movies, and so much of that rests on Squibb’s shoulders!

Squibb takes on her first leading role with the charisma of any great movie star. Every word out of her mouth feels completely natural, and every mannerism of hers is something I’ve seen my grandma do countless times. This film is also inspired by events that occurred to Margolin’s grandma, a scam which surely has happened to countless other grandparents in the world. Thelma receives a call that her grandson, Daniel (Fred Hechinger), has been in a bad accident and must wire $10,000 to help him. In a whirlwind of confusion, Thelma unfortunately sends it off as she is unable to reach her daughter, Gail (Parker Posey) or son-in-law Alan (Clark Gregg). Sadly, my grandma was also victimized by the same type of scam, only they said it was my uncle rather than me. I vividly remember the confusion on her face, and the incredulity of the situation. To think there are people who actively make a “living” via scamming anybody, let alone the elderly, is despicable. It’s in this anger that Thelma decides she is going to get her money back in person! So to see Thelma take action is not only fun and exciting, but cathartic.

It’s clear the Thelma team takes the action in their film as seriously as any Tom Cruise vehicle might. Imbued with a sense of genuine tension, Squibb’s mission involves everything you might see in the Mission: Impossible franchise. There’s gadgets, vehicle chases, a charismatic (and deeply stacked) cast, with a ticking clock tying it all together. But it’s important to note that what this film captures so wonderfully is the high stakes situations of everyday life. For Thelma, it’s something as simple as sneaking up her friend’s staircase. For her grandchild, daughter, and son-in-law, it’s making a speedy left turn against oncoming traffic. But with a smile on her face, Squibb shows the world she’s still got it! That’s not to say that Margolin exclusively makes an action movie. In fact, this film excels as a rumination on aging and pride just as much as it does as an action film. There’s also a third subplot that mostly seems to fade away as the two parallel ideas begin converging, but it serves its purpose well enough within the context of the plot.

During the course of her mission, Thelma has to reach out to an old friend for some help. Thelma makes it vocally known that she doesn’t enjoy the assistance. In this case, she prefers to take matters into her hands and her hands alone. She heads to an assisted living facility where Ben (the legendary Richard Roundtree, in his final role) has lived since the passing of his wife. The two have completely different views on what it means to be at their age, but they end up on the same dual-seated scooter nevertheless. Still, they often butt heads as to what the best approach is for certain situations. 

As Ben and Thelma find themselves in predicaments that are only getting more dicey, Ben insists on calling Thelma’s family for help. As independent as ever, Thelma adamantly refuses. In maybe the most poignant scene of the film, Ben explains how he is not lesser than Thelma because he takes help where he can get it. He always greatly appreciated the help from his wife. When she passed, he then went to a place that could continue that help. For Thelma, that’s out of the question, and it’s not exclusively due to pride. It’s simply that she was the helper in her relationship. In this impactful exchange, Margolin reminds the audience that, while many elderly family members in our life may be stubborn, chances are they aren’t behaving so irrationally. It’s simply a matter of breaking habits that have formed over the course of a lifetime. So the solution cannot simply be to cast all the elderly into assisted living and call it a day. Instead, we must find a way to allow our elderly loved ones their independence, without making them feel as if they’re all used up or burdening anybody. And by the end of the film, Thelma proves herself more than capable and full of life. As she heads back home with her grandson, Daniel (Fred Hechinger), she observes gnarled trees along the street. She is awestruck by their resiliency, and utters two words that will make your heart soar. Squibb may be a top-notch action star, but she also delivers these poetic phrases with such believability. The reason being is simple. As an audience, we wholeheartedly believe that Squibb is as loving and caring and thoughtful as Thelma. Around midway through the film, Ben asks Thelma if they’re having one of their good days or one of their bad days. Thelma says that they’ll find out soon enough. By the end, it feels like it’s going to be remembered as one of the best days they’ve ever had. And the same can be said for the day that we walk out of this film, reminded of the beautiful resilience of the human spirit.

Thelma celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section.

Grade: B

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘In A Violent Nature’ is Unlike Any Slasher You’ve Seen


Director: Chris Nash
Writer: Chris Nash
Stars: Ry Barrett, Charlotte Creaghan, Liam Leone

Synopsis: The horror movie tracks a ravenous zombie creature as it makes its way through a secluded forest.


Johnny’s arrival in Chris Nash’s slasher film, In A Violent Nature, isn’t signaled by much. In fact, when the film opens up, we can barely tell what’s going on. Conversations are simply overheard, and in most slasher films, the viewer would expect to see who’s talking. One would imagine that these are the voices of our central characters, or merely the victims of a deadly cold open. In A Violent Nature, while deeply and clearly indebted to countless slashers that came before it, is not like most slasher films. It brings a new approach to the tried-and-true subgenre that works unbelievably well. The beauty of Nash’s film is just how well it takes the most common tropes imaginable, and repurposes them through a literal new lens. What is that new lens you might ask? It’s Johnny’s! With the camera primarily remaining behind the hulking beast, this second-person style slasher is deeply immersive, and staggeringly effective.

As stated, the film begins and there’s absolutely no sense of geography in which to ground ourselves. That all changes fairly quickly, for as soon as the voices we heard dissipate in the distance, the ground begins to essentially gurgle. Johnny has awoken, and it’s as if evil is being birthed from the ground. He’s practically spit back out into the forest. And then? He begins to walk… and we as the viewer are forced to follow. His hulking footsteps, the leaves brushing against his body, and the occasional ambience of nature is all we come to hear. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t mutter anything, and for all we know, he barely even thinks. With no musical score to escape into, In A Violent Nature places us inside the mind of its behemoth. And while being trapped in there for so long, one gets the sense by this point that he, or it, is completely and utterly mindless. It’s a frightening subversion of slasher films, wherein with classics like Friday the 13th or Halloween, at least other characters provide an inkling of an idea as to what’s going on. Nash is not interested in explaining whatsoever, although there’s a handful of easter eggs which make it clear he is as interested in inventing a dense lore for his new horror icon as he is in grossing audiences out.

This film definitely requires a bit of patience, but make no mistake, it is gnarly. There’s one sequence that is likely to go down as the best horror death of the year, and realistically, will be canonized as one of the greatest ever. But aside from the outstanding makeup and prosthetics, as well as the crunchy, squishy sound design, Nash’s kills take on another layer. We have sat in this stalking beast’s mind for so long that we barely get to meet any of his victims. There’s a few moments where we learn the very basics of their relationships, but it’s all heard in pieces and through walls or from a distance. One would think that this would lessen the impact of these kills, but in fact, it makes them all the more upsetting. There’s simply no rhyme or reason to his actions. Over time, it becomes clear that Johnny, while remaining ever silent and mindlessly committed on his aimless path, is deeply sadistic and inventive in how he chooses to murder his victims. It’s not simply a matter of him achieving his objective. It goes much deeper than that. The violence only adds to his complete and utter lack of humanity.

After the film premiered, Nash explained how he wanted to make a film full of vibes punctuated by extreme violence. On that front, he obviously succeeded wildly. The vibes are incredibly bad, and genre fans are going to eat it up. There’s a steadfast commitment to just how grim In A Violent Nature can get. Complete and total isolation feels like one of the primary throughlines of the film. Pretty much every victim of Johnny is attacked while they are frighteningly alone. Screams can never be heard, if there are any to begin with. This isolation is something that the brilliant sound design captures by either screams echoing into thin air or by simply drowning the agony out by other means. At one point, Johnny drags one of his victims into a shed. Without revealing anything, it’s one of the more deranged things I’ve ever seen in a film, made all the more frightening by the roaring sounds we hear. Prior to witnessing what is causing the noise, our minds are driven mad from imagination. When the reveal arrives, it numbs our mind with the blaring noise until we can no longer think straight. These moments of stark violence are captured in such a way that, even though we’re trapped following Johnny around, we’re somewhat grateful to not know what is truly going on in his mind. He observes his prey as if they’re mere toys, and it’s horrifically effective.

Although it will not be spoiled here, the ending of In A Violent Nature is perhaps the proof of Nash’s greatest strength. He must be applauded for the level of restraint used in the extended finale. He completely reshapes the typical final girl into something viscerally perturbed. There is absolutely no solace or satisfaction by the time the credits roll. Instead, both the final girl and the audience are left with, again, that sense of complete and total isolation. And with that, there comes a deep seeded fear that can be felt throughout your body. In those moments of full disorientation, the horrors we imagine can so easily sneak up on us. All they have to do is hide in plain sight, and more often than not, Johnny usually is. And he is one horror villain you definitely don’t want to be ambushed by.

In A Violent Nature celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Midnight section, and will be released by Shudder and IFC Films later this year.

Grade: A-

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story’ is a Tale of Real Superheroes


Directors: Ian Bonhôte, Peter Ettedgui
Writers: Ian Bonhôte, Otto Burnham, Peter Ettedgui
Stars: Christopher Reeve

Synopsis: Reeve’s rise to becoming a film star, follows with a near-fatal horse-riding accident in 1995 that left him paralyzed from the neck down. After which he became an activist for spinal cord injury treatments and disability rights.


Superman: The Movie has been canonized for years now. Going beyond the realm of cinema, the 1978 Superman has been permanently frozen into the annals of pop culture legend. It, of course, helps that Superman is one of the most iconic characters to ever be written. But the character had existed for decades prior to the adaptation, so what about that film elevated the hero to newfound heights? At the time, it was a landmark film in terms of visual effects, and, in retrospect, began the cascading effect of where contemporary cinema has currently found itself. But, having recently watched it for the first time, the reason for its transcendence is incredibly apparent: Christopher Reeve simply embodies the very essence of a superhero. It’s an all-time movie star performance, which captures the very essence of heroism in incredibly natural ways. And this documentary, Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story, truly capitalizes on that natural charisma and moral compass. After all, the story of Reeve and his family is more inspiring than any fictional superhero comic that’s been written.

One would think that living up to the mythos of Superman would be an insurmountable task. But Reeve, with all his charisma and resiliency, proved it possible. The documentary, directed by Peter Ettedgui and Ian Bonhôte, is really not about Superman. It’s about Reeve, the man who embodied the chance to be super. But importantly, and it’s what truly elevates this documentary, it also focuses on those around him who did the same. After the tragic accident that left Reeve paralyzed from the neck down, an unfathomable amount of responsibility was placed on the shoulders of his wife, Dana Reeve. The biggest strength of this documentary is just how powerfully the love Dana and Christopher had for one another comes across. One sequence in particular details the first conversation the two had after the accident, and with three words, it will cause any audience member to sob.

There’s a quote from Reeve in the film wherein he describes his understanding of what it means to be a hero. In his eyes, an ordinary person who endures great hardship and maintains hope is more heroic than any superpowered individual. Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story is not only a perfect encapsulation of one person, but several individuals, who fit this definition of what it means to be a hero. Furthermore, it confirms the essential nature of surrounding oneself with love. Between Dana, his three children, Matthew, Alexandra, and Will, Robin Williams (of which he is heavily featured in the documentary, and it is as devastating as you could expect), and more, it’s clear Christopher Reeve had a rock solid support system. And it’s with that support, and his clearly innate resiliency, that he decided to let his accident only be a hurdle in life.

Just like Superman, Christopher Reeve used his persona as both a symbol for hope and a vehicle for change. A major advocate for disability rights and care, the foundation created in his and his wife’s name has become the story of a foundation that has helped countless lives. His determination to change the accessibility of Hollywood is immensely admirable. One segment of the documentary follows the steps that were taken for Christopher to appear at the Oscars in 1996. It’s a deeply powerful moment when he finally takes the stage, and leaves you with a sense of overwhelming awe. It’s a truly marvelous moment wherein you fully believe him to be a superhero. It’s transcendent, until the first sentence out of his mouth is a joke. He immediately reminds the world on a massive stage that he, and anybody with a disability, does not want to be pitied. Instead, he’s just a person. The same Christopher Reeve we have always known and loved.

Again, the idea of anybody living up to the stature of Superman seems impossible. But even before his accident, it appeared that Christopher Reeve had achieved it. Perhaps the greatest moment in any comic book film is in the 1978 Superman and solely rests on the shoulders of Christopher Reeve. In the original film, Clark meets Lois Lane in her apartment. He has his typical sheepish demeanor. But as Lois leaves the room, he removes his glasses and his entire body language changes. But before admitting he is Superman, he puts the glasses back on and reverts back to the nervous Clark. It’s only about 30 seconds or so, but it’s a stunning example of a subtle physical performance that will forever move me. For me, it’s not his performance of Superman that sets him apart from the rest, but his performance of Clark Kent. In it, there is such an innate love for humanity, and Christopher Reeve brings a deep and necessary humility to his performance. It’s in that humility that Christopher Reeve becomes a truly iconic figure in history. May we all hope to inspire even a fraction of the people he has in our lives, and may we be so lucky as to have a love as deep as his and his wife.

Super/Man: The Christopher Reeve Story celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section and is currently seeking distribution.

Grade: A

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘My Old Ass’ is Coming-Of-Age Sci-Fi Fun


Director: Megan Park
Writer: Megan Park
Stars: Aubrey Plaza, Maddie Ziegler, Maria Dizzia

Synopsis: Elliott Labrant, who has been advised by her future self not to fall in love, is sure she can do so after being given the advice. That is, until she meets the boy her older self warned her about.


If you like high-concept sci-fi films, then you’re in luck: My Old Ass is for you. If you adore nothing more than an irreverent coming-of-age comedy, look no further: My Old Ass is for you. If you appreciate a film that reminds you the importance of what it means to be appreciative, or just simply love having a great time at the movies, I am incredibly happy to report: My Old Ass is for you. Megan Park’s second feature, My Old Ass, is an absolute delight from beginning to end. From the very first frame of the film, it’s full of a wonderful energy that sets the stage for a rolicking time at the movies.

There’s a youthful exuberance that just pours off of the screen. We’re immediately introduced to three teenage girls boating around, clearly having the time of their lives. Elliott (newcomer Maisy Stella), Ro (Kerrice Brooks), and Ruthie (Maddie Ziegler) are getting ready to celebrate. It’s Elliott’s 18th birthday, and for the occasion, the girls have decided to go camping and take mushrooms. Within seconds of seeing this group of friends interact, the fun they’re having is infectious. It truly feels as if they have been friends their entire lives. While the film pivots in a more focused direction after the first act, one could imagine a full coming-of-age film about this trio just enjoying the remaining days of summer. Where the film decides to go is strong in its own right, but it’s honestly upsetting that there’s never much more of this delightful friend group. It’s just a really wonderful way to start the film, and considering the direction the film takes, to have more interactions amongst the three of them would be nothing but beneficial.

Somewhere along the way, Elliott encounters her older self (Aubrey Plaza). Unsure how to handle the situation, this interesting sci-fi idea takes on a very comedic framework. Rather than get bogged down in the how or why, Stella and Plaza have such fun banter. Smartly, the film isn’t even remotely interested in getting into the specifics of just what it is that’s occurring. All the viewer needs to know is what 18-year-old Elliott needs to know. 39-year-old Elliott doles out information sparsely as to make sure there’s some surprises still left for her younger self. The most important things she tells Elliott is to not take her parents and two brothers for granted, and to stay away from a mystery person named Chad (Percy Hynes White). What should be easy enough of a task, considering 18-year-old Elliott has no idea who Chad is, is immediately upended by his perfectly odd arrival. From there, the film pivots hard into a lovely rom-com of sorts, where Elliott is actively trying, and consistently failing, to avoid the seemingly sweet Chad. 

As somebody who has never particularly enjoyed The Office, there’s admittedly one quote that has always stuck with me. “I wish there was a way to know you were in the good old days before you actually left them.” Elliott only has three weeks in her small town home before moving to Toronto. It’s not until she speaks with her older self that it begins to settle in just what it means to leave home. Also having been clued into a startling revelation about what her parents will be doing after she goes away, Elliott’s world begins to crash down on her like a ticking clock. Any semi-adult viewer will become emotional over this notion of no longer being able to return to a specific moment in time. We can look back on memories and be comforted by them, but there are moments in our lives that pass and force us to make a painful realization. Some of our favorite activities, our favorite people, our favorite places, might some day cease to exist. We don’t realize that as children, but what happens if we’re explicitly told that it’s inevitably coming? So with that, Park’s film certainly tugs on the heart strings when showing Elliott’s attempts at savoring every available moment with family. While it feels as if the experiences could be a bit more varied, they’re certainly effective in achieving the end result. Especially when it comes to Chad, perhaps one of the most affable and endearing rom-com men we’ve had in some time. 

Hynes White portrays Chad with such effervescence. He’s full of life, yet doesn’t seem to fully realize it. Played with a goofball mentality that’s impossible to not smile at, older Elliott’s warning to stay away from him only becomes more confounding. As young Elliott needs more information, she decides to take more mushrooms in the hopes of speaking with her older self once again. It doesn’t work the same way this time around, but instead, delivers what is likely to be one of the most surprising, and funny, sequences of the year. And it’s in the moments and sequences like these, where My Old Ass feels at its most fresh. It’s also in sequences like this one that remind both the audience and Elliott that these carefree moments of childhood only last so long. Life is full of many moments that will be missed. Hopefully, we’ll be able to catch as many as possible. And in the meantime, we should savor every moment, for accepting defeat before the moments even come is no way to live a life. Surprisingly enough, My Old Ass ends on a relatively somber note, at least in comparison to the rest of the film. But it comes from a place so life-affirming and tender that all in all, it’s a deeply happy ending, one that leaves both its characters, and the audience, all the more fulfilled.

My Old Ass celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section and is currently seeking distribution.

Grade: B

Op-Ed: Anonymous Oscar Ballot #1: An Insession Film Exclusive

As I sit at my computer getting ready for the first interview of the season to get a view of this week’s nominations from the Academy from a person who will be casting their ballot in a few weeks, I’m extra excited for this specific person who for the first time (since meeting two years ago) has built enough trust with me to allow me to get their thoughts on this year’s crop of nominees. It feels like an accomplishment that I continue to get to know and gain the trust of Academy members from different branches. Usually, I would be posting which branch they are in but I came to an agreement with them (as they are still nervous, and understandably, as this is the first time they have ever allowed this access) that I won’t name the branch but I can say this; their Oscar still shines bright and is a pride and joy for them. 

Here’s what they had to say- 

Voter: Overall this year the nominations are decent with a block of solid Best Picture Nominations.

Joey: Let’s start with VISUAL EFFECTS. 

Voter: First of all, Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and Oppenheimer should be here, let’s be serious. With that said, for me, Godzilla: Minus One  wins here easily and will have my vote. I thoroughly enjoyed the film, it really stood out visually on the budget and really put the “Hollywood” Godzilla films to shame. There was more integrity and authenticity here. 

Joey: EDITING.

Voter: This really is a beautiful selection of films, and these five make sense as the nominees. Five of the best films here really, but out of these my vote will go to Oppenheimer, its editing was used the most effectively and really was its own character. Killers of the Flower Moon is on the longer side of run time but I don’t honestly find that to be an editing issue.” 

Joey: COSTUME DESIGN. 

Voter: Poor Things truly to me stands out the most. It’s the most interesting mix of classical costumes and modern expressionist and I like that type of twist. I wouldn’t be mad if Barbie got it, but I feel like that’s a template to where the most creative truly is Poor Things.” 

Joey: CINEMATOGRAPHY. 

Voter: For the absolute record I think Saltburn could’ve and should’ve snuck in. Killers of the Flower Moon is…okay, El Conde is such a cool nomination, my vote will go to Poor Things as I find it truly so striking and memorable, but I think Oppenheimer will win and I honestly find it interesting as to which shots were filmed in IMAX and which ones weren’t. It’s like you’d be watching these gorgeous IMAX shot moments and then be in a conversation that was cut in with Einstein and you can tell it wasn’t in IMAX and it feels like it wasn’t fully thought through. 

Joey: MAKEUP AND HAIRSTYLING. 

Voter: I want it to be very very clear to everyone, I am not (nor can I stand) a voter who doesn’t watch everything. I will not vote until I watch everything. With that said, I have not yet seen Golda, so I will hold my thoughts on it. From there, I found the makeup in Poor Things to be fun but honestly I (as of now) will be voting for Maestro as that make-up felt invisible in the best of ways, and what I mean by that is that you truly cannot tell at a certain point that these characters are wearing makeup. It’s so damn natural, and despite the controversy this year with the idea of “jew face”, if you are emulating a real person it needs to be as real as possible and the Maestro team did just that, it reads authentic.” 

Joey: PRODUCTION DESIGN. 

Voter: Poor Things is literally THE ONE. It’s striking and told so well from the black and white to the color. It’s rich, euphoric, stylized, and colorfully extraordinary. The production design here looks and feels unrecognizable while presenting completely new. I imagine Barbie will get it, it’s fun and notable but it’s just commercial recreations. 

Joey: SOUND. 

Voter: If The Zone of Interest wasn’t here I would be voting for Oppenheimer. With Zone, the sound is the theme of that film and all about what’s heard and not seen. Oppenheimer is hauntingly good, it’s chilling and I genuinely might rewatch both before voting to really make sure, but as of right now my vote is definitely going to Zone.

Joey: SCORE.

Voter: (Laughs and groans) Oh, Jesus Christ. This is one of the categories I feel they fucked up the most. First of all, two films really should be here- Spider Man: Across the Spider-Verse, as well as The Boy and the Heron. When it comes to what is getting my vote here, I’m torn between Oppenheimer and Poor Things. I think Ludwig (Goransson) is incredible and I feel that his score gives an emotional through line in a procedural film, his score underpins it in such a way and yet I’m drawn to the score from Poor Things as it’s just so memorable and all around fun. I fully think Oppenheimer will win here but my vote goes to Poor Things.”

Joey: ORIGINAL SONG.

Voter: (Laughs again) Firstly, it’s insane to me that a film about Flamin’ Hot Cheetos exists. I think Americans get very excited compared to the rest of the world about the story of someone developing commercial products, which we saw a lot of this year in Air, Flamin Hot, and Barbie. With that said I will for sure listen to all the songs in full before that vote is cast, but as of right now I am leaning towards Wahzhazhe (A Song for my People) from Killers of the Flower Moon. It feels quite powerful compared to the songs that are here. 

NOTE FROM JOEY- The voter here wanted again to reiterate that they watch everything, but has not seen all the shorts yet (as of this interview) and wants the respect of those categories to be at 100% before commenting on them. So due to the timing of the interview, those categories will be skipped as well as International and Documentary due to not having seen all of them yet. 

Joey: ANIMATED FEATURE

Voter: Really nice selection here, one of the most pleasant selections in quite some time. I really wish Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem made it over Nimona but hey, what can you do? The Boy and the Heron is an outright masterpiece, as someone who loves Studio Ghibli, this movie made me feel like I was watching Spirited Away for the first time again, it was spellbinding in its telling of intergenerational relationships and it really stuck with me for a long time after watching. Now, I do have hopes that Sony will nail the next Spider-Verse film and we can honor the conclusion there but it’s a close battle for me here where Heron wins.” 

Joey: ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY. 

Voter: Really good selection of film here, and what people on Twitter and in real life who don’t vote on these need to understand is this- when you’re voting for screenplay you’re voting on what works in black and white on the page, strip the sound, get rid of the costumes, set pieces, actors etc. Does it hold you? Do you want to flip the page and continue? Yes? Well for me, that was The Holdovers, in terms of writing it’s so engaging. 

Joey: ADAPTED SCREENPLAY.

Voter: POOR THINGS! POOR THINGS! A MILLION TIMES, POOR THINGS. Its ideas are so beautiful and condensed, they’re thoughtful, provocative, and shocking. It’s a script that is hopeful, goofy, and fun. When it comes to the “controversy” of Barbie in Adapted, the Academy did the absolute correct thing. This is not at all an original screenplay, this is adapted as all hell as it’s an existing commercial IP.” 

Joey: SUPPORTING ACTRESS. 

Voter: (Sighs) I COULD NOT STAND NYAD. I think both actresses were in an uphill struggle with a TERRIBLE screenplay. It felt so narcissistic and juvenile. Jodie is such a good actress but I am extremely disappointed she got in, especially when Rosamund Pike should be here for Saltburn. I truly think the inclusion of Foster is lame. Speaking of lame inclusions, America Ferrera…..I want to say the monologue is correct, I agree, but let’s compare that monologue to someone like Laura Dern in Marriage Story and her monologue about being a good father, it’s just day & night, let’s be very honest here- is this a nomination for acting or for that monologue…Danielle Brooks is here, The Color Purple was a thing. My vote will go to Da’Vine Joy Randolph but I would be totally fine if Emily Blunt wins, who is really good in Oppenheimer.” 

Joey: SUPPORTING ACTOR. 

Voter: Decent selection, I controversially would’ve been fine losing DeNiro for Dafoe but I appreciate that would be pretty fringe. I cannot lie, I love the Poor Things boys and therefore I’m voting for Mark Ruffalo. He’s a solid actor but I’m never really excited by him. Howeverm in this movie, I thought he was hilariously funny, over the top and unlike anything he’s ever done before, I was super impressed.” 

Joey: LEADING ACTOR. 

Voter: Good selection, wouldn’t change any of these. Obviously, Cillian Murphy is incredible in Oppenheimer, but Paul Giamatti in The Holdovers totally won me over and has my vote. I do think Cillian will win, but with Giamatti he brought so much authenticity and warmth to this curmudgeon of a man. It’s great to see Jeffrey Wright here and of course Coleman Domingo is here but what I find fascinating is how and why Bradley Cooper somehow became the villain this season for Maestro, he doesn’t deserve that.” 

Joey: LEADING ACTRESS. 

Voter: The very obvious outlier here is Annette Bening, incredible actress but (laughs) what are we doing here? Without a doubt, Greta Lee for Past Lives should have this spot. Lily Gladstone seems to be resonating with people better than with me, she’s good but this really is a three person race if we’re being honest with ourselves. Before we get to them though I know there was some talk on lead vs. supporting and there is for sure an argument to be had to put her in supporting with the seven hour run time and her screen time. But I’m not going to argue her placement here, in all honesty. With the other three, when it comes to my vote I’m giving it to Emma Stone because in this film she’s showing us that as an actress she’s extremely mature and competent; emotionally, physically and comically. She truly ticks off all the boxes for me and it makes me think back to the last time we gave Yorgos’ leading lady an Oscar, Olivia Colman winning for The Favourite has truly aged like fine wine. Now, regarding this whole Barbie “drama”- leaving Margot Robbie out was completely the correct decision. She is nominated as a producer and frankly her achievement as a producer massively outweighs her achievement as an actress, her being out makes sense.

Joey: BEST DIRECTOR.

Voter: You can have two women in this category, you can have three and regarding the other two big options here- I don’t honestly feel that Barbie was one of the top five achievements in directing this year. You cannot honestly say, with hand on heart, that the direction was the single thing that made the movie work and I certainly don’t think it was among the five of the year so I was very happy to see Greta Gerwig not here. Frankly, I think this is a pretty fucking good line up. There is so much to like about  Past Lives but I think the direction, while it serves the film well is nowhere near the biggest achievement in directing for the year. Is a nomination warranted? No. If anyone was to be in this category who isn’t here it should be Alexander Payne, and I would swap him out for Marty, while Killers of the Flower Moon is directed incredibly well, Payne is just a whole different level of “wow”. All five of the films that made it in this category are in their own way quite provocative, but for my vote I need to go with my mind and not my heart on this vote, and with that I am voting for Christopher Nolan here. My heart so badly wants Yorgos but Nolan directed the shit out of that movie and he’s going to win here.”

Joey: For BEST PICTURE, lets go how you would rank these like on your actual ballot, let’s go 10 to 1 and after each, give a blurb about the film. 

Voter: Okay, sounds good- before I start I want to say I find this to be a really good selection of movies and one of the first years where I don’t hate any of these movies, but there are clear movies here and clear winners here.

10. Barbie – easily the weakest of the bunch.

9. Killers of the Flower Moon – Marty really doesn’t miss but he’s made better and especially as of recent.”

(Beat) “AND NOW WE’RE ONTO THE REALLY GOOD MOVIES

8.  American Fiction – fucking great.

7. Anatomy of a Fall – such a well directed film, such a maturely written film that fights the urge to be patronizing. 

6. Past Lives – totally worked on me, deeply emotional. Did exactly what it was setting out to do. 

5. Maestro –  thought it was beautiful and compelling, baity as fuck but I think every scene does something fascinating. 

4. Oppenheimer – this is winning, let’s be honest. So I want to give a different film another shot, one of Nolan’s best. 

3. The Zone of Interest – hypnotic, it just worked on me. Unlike anything I’ve seen and it left me speechless.

2. The Holdovers – it’s got THE goods. One I can see myself rewatching. It’s understated and delivers on its own promise and does it joyfully. Low stakes but makes it MATTER. 

1. Poor Things – film of the year, please keep giving Yorgos money because dude knows how to cook! 

I would like to say that I am disappointed that the momentum for Spider Man: Across the Spider Verse died down and didn’t propel it into Best Picture. Does it surprise me though? No. I can only hope that with what Sony is doing in animation, we here in the Academy can honor the third movie in the franchise as long as the ending to the trilogy is incredibly cathartic and thoughtful. Sony really is pushing boundaries and making huge strides artistically. I would’ve also liked to see Beau is Afraid and Asteroid City get into Production Design, that category needs to learn how to have more fun, but their omission is no great shock with how decisive that branch is.

Joey: The first year post To Leslie “controversy”, did you notice any changes with campaigning, or any FYC’s this year due to the new rules?

Voter: No.

Joey: Thank you so much for your time, truly appreciate it. 

Voter: Of course, and thank you for giving me my first time in doing this, I enjoyed it. 

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Handling the Undead’ is a Process of Grief


Director: Thea Hvistendahl
Writer: Thea Hvistendahl, John Ajvide Lindqvist
Stars: Renta Reinsve, Anders Danielsen Le, Bahar Pars

Synopsis: On a hot summer day in Oslo, the dead mysteriously awaken, and three families are thrown into chaos when their deceased loved ones come back to them. Who are they, and what do they want?


To simply summarize Thea Hvistendahl’s Handling The Undead as a zombie movie would be a disservice to what this film attempts to address. While certainly operating through the lens of a genre film, this plays out far more in the realm of an intriguing drama grappling with the variety of ways in which humans handle grief. Following the lives of four groups dealing with the aftermath of tragic loss, Hvistendahl’s film, based off of the 2005 John Ajvide Lindqvist novel of the same name begs the question: if we always hope and pray for our loved ones to return, what would it mean if they actually did? It’s a chilling film that relies heavily on both gorgeous cinematography and a moody score to maximize the impact it has on its audience.

The film opens up in a small apartment, and we’re treated to faint glimpses of an older gentleman. Keeping the viewer at a distance, many shots in Handling the Undead barely lend a peak around a doorframe or window. Considering how much these stories are interested in the process of grief stages, the cinematography in the earlier sequences succeeds at displaying how we cope when we don’t think anybody is watching. The film certainly takes its time doling out information, and it works all the better for it. While there would seem to be a benefit from providing a bit more by the latter half, there’s an admirable quality to committing to a specific tone and pace for the entirety of a runtime. We begin to learn that the elderly gentleman is the father of Anna (Renate Reinsve), who is grieving the loss of her young child. Barely able to function, she drones out any feelings she might have by blasting music. Her inability to eat is captured not explicitly, but her father’s ritual of leaving wrapped plates atop one another in the fridge will hit close to home for anybody who has cared for a grieving loved one.

Handling the Undead feels as if it’s packed full of imagery that subtly, yet powerfully, aims to make the thesis statement behind the film’s choices as clear as possible. For example, upon the introduction to the rest of the characters, there’s an overhead shot of two separate freeway loops that are practically touching. While the disparate stories captured in this film never intersect with one another, they come incredibly close to one another emotionally; they are all dealing with devastation in their own manner. Importantly, none are ever judged for how they handle the situations present. And by situations, yes, I am referring to the fact that their deceased loved ones have returned as zombies.

These aren’t the cinematic zombies we have grown accustomed to. More than anything, they meander. But there are fleeting moments where it feels as if those that have returned have a semblance of memory. Or at the very least, they have some sort of feeling. Unfortunately, this concept isn’t as deeply explored as the living characters themselves, but it does bring up another fascinating question. If the living would do anything for their loved ones to return, would those we have lost want to return in the first place? If viewing the film through that lens, it becomes a bit of a disappointment, but there’s enough variety in the situations presented that leave you intrigued. 

Perhaps the strongest element of Handling the Undead is right there in the title itself. Each of these characters, by the end of the film, finds a way of dealing with their newfound discoveries. There are those who, after their experience, finally allow themselves to grieve. In it, we see the importance of acceptance. In another, we see commitment to making it work no matter the dilemma. And finally, we witness denial until it’s no longer feasible, and how we just eventually force ourselves to move on and continue living despite it all.

While it would have been fascinating to get a bit more context into the world at large and how it is dealing with such a scenario, the film and story don’t seem necessarily all that interested in the larger scope of this frightening event. It’s solely focused on how a certain set of individuals, and by extension, how countless individuals around the globe, would deal with their own thoughts and feelings regarding such a situation. For better or worse, Handling the Undead remains steadfast in its patient approach. Handling grief is, in and of itself, an arduous journey. If at times the film feels like it could propel forward a bit, perhaps Hvistendahl is simply trying to steep us in the stages of grief as cinematically as possible.

Handling the Undead celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the World Dramatic Competition section, and will be released by Neon later this year.

Grade: C+

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Presence’ is Soderbergh Taking On Ghosts


Director: Steven Soderbergh
Writer: David Koepp
Stars: Lucy Liu, Chris Sullivan, Julia Fox

Synopsis: Showcases a suburban house inhabited by an mysterious entity.


After the world premiere of Steven Soderbergh’s secret film, Presence, legendary actress Lucy Liu said the multi-hyphenate filmmaker has given other filmmakers a new canvas to work with. It should be no surprise, considering that time and time again, Soderbergh has devised ways of turning even the most simple or trite ideas into experimental masterpieces. When the spy genre seemed to have turned stale, he made Haywire. In a time where COVID movies were coming out left and right with nothing meaningful to say about the shared experience, he gave us Kimi. For over 35 years, Soderbergh has redefined his style so much that his most observable style has become the essential breaking down of previous films of his. With each new project he decides to take on, his audience knows that, at the very least, not a single thing will be phoned in. There is a clear purpose behind every decision, and that can be felt from the opening shot of Presence.

Brilliantly, with a single camera move, Soderbergh pulls his audience into the empty house wherein the rest of the film will take place. He lays the cards right out in front of us, and when we take the bait as he intended, we’re immediately taken when we realize he never attempted to hide his hand. On the contrary, Soderbergh brings the audience in on the very ground floor so as to set the guidelines by which this film will continuously operate. Screenwriter David Koepp described how he admired the commitment to creating a set of arbitrary rules which would create a sense of confinement. And it’s within these very rules that Presence soars to newfound heights. Yes, at the end of the day, this is just a ghost story. But rather than just have his audience watch characters operate along their set paths on a screen, the POV used pulls the audience into the home experience alongside this family of four. All in all, it makes for a more enriching experience, on top of the experimental movements just working like visual gangbusters. And of course, Soderbergh was the camera operator on this film. So not only did he conceive of a fascinating new angle with which to address this sub genre through, he made sure to be the first one doing it. (He also edited the film, but who’s counting at this point?)

At one point in the film, Chris (Chris Sullivan) sits down to tell his daughter, Chloe (Callina Liang), that there is still mystery in the world. There’s certainly plenty of mystery behind the family which Presence quite literally follows. Pretty much every scene of the film either ends a few seconds too short or bleeds into what one could imagine is a new scene, before also cutting away abruptly. It’s a reminder that these characters, while we begin to get a general sense of the family dynamic, are indeed unknowable. These fleeting moments we see through the eyes of the presence are not enough, yet sufficient in eliciting the ideas Koepp and Soderbergh seemingly want to achieve. If we’re to believe we are part of the presence itself, we can never access the whole story. Admittedly, it can be a bit frustrating at times, but it works in retrospect with both the finale and the rules set up midway through the film.

Smartly, Presence, while operating on the idea that ghosts do exist, posits they are also still unknowable. There are a handful of possible interpretations to glean from the events that occur in the film. And even at its most frightening, there’s something deeply comforting sitting at the core of the sheer fright that’s imagined. For example, there’s one element of the film that Soderbergh repeatedly teases his viewer with. Everytime it occurs, we get closer and closer to seeing a cinematic reveal. By the end, we discount it as a possibility, until in the final moments when it does occur. Soderbergh intentionally uses cinematic curiosity to his benefit, and when he finally drops the curtain, it’s blood-curdling in its raw effectiveness. There’s such an innate understanding of the relationship between film and audience in Presence that it feels rather easy to look past the occasionally overly dramatic teen dialogue.

With his ninth film in eight consecutive years, and over 30 features to his name, Soderbergh once again confirms my belief that he is not only the hardest working filmmaker in the world of cinema, but he has been for a while. And he shows no signs of slowing down. We should all simply be grateful that there’s still filmmakers at his status who are willing to take big swings, and in the case of Presence, pay off. One can also imagine this film will inspire a slew of films that attempt to capture a deeply immersive, VR-style POV. Whether they will just be used as a gimmick or cheap imitation is now in the hands of the rest of cinema.

Presence celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section. It has been acquired by Neon, and will presumably release in theaters in 2024.

Grade: B+

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Sasquatch Sunset’ is a Deeply Human Movie With No Humans


Directors: David Zellner, Nathan Zellner
Writer: David Zellner
Stars: Jesse Eisenberg, Riley Keough, Christophe Zajac-Denek

Synopsis: A year in the life of a unique family. It captures the daily life of the Sasquatch with a level of detail and rigor that is simply unforgettable.


Sasquatch Sunset is a deeply unconventional movie, so it only feels right that this review is equally unconventional. The fifth feature film from brothers Nathan and David Zellner, this is a film that features zero humans and approximately four sasquatches. Yes, it is as insane as it sounds. Yet, for something that began as a joke short film among two brothers, the final product is something truly beautiful. Upon the opening moments of the film, I started realizing that I’ve never really given much thought to the existence of Sasquatch throughout my life. But with this film, it makes you wonder: wouldn’t it be lovely if they really did exist? 

Completely dialogue free and devoid of on-screen humans, Sasquatch Sunset revels in the beauty of nature. Through these immensely quiet shots of the Sasquatch family observing and interacting with nature, the Zellner brothers remind their audience to be a bit more gentle to the world around us. In one of the most belly-laugh-out-loud sequences of the film, the family begins relieving themselves upon the discovery of a roadway. It tears directly through their beautiful natural habitat, so rightfully so they deface it however they seem fit! It’s also important to note that the Zellner brothers DID in fact confirm to the audience everything in the film is “100% authenticated” and “confirmed with a variety of scientists.” With such a commitment to the sheer lunacy of their cinematic idea, the Zellner brothers go above and beyond in justifying their choice for making this into a full 89-minute feature. And it does feel like they achieve it, even if it feels like two disparate achievements at times.

The main issue this film seems to have is whether or not it wants to be a moving humanist drama or flat-out comedy. Of course, a film can be both, and there are countless examples throughout cinema. Yet, with Sasquatch Sunset, it feels like the funniest moments undercut the more genuinely heartbreaking moments. Mind you, both elements of the film do work wonderfully, but it just feels as if the glue hasn’t entirely solidified at times. Even so, I found myself deeply captivated by the entirety of the runtime, mainly by the sheer fact of how committed all parties involved seem to be. For starters, the makeup and costume work looks Oscar-worthy. From close-ups to wide shots, the sasquatches are always the star of the show. Shot like a nature documentary, and looking just as gorgeous, the comical awe of the sasquatches existing casually within the woods is funny every single time. But what is so particularly funny about this film? Sure, there’s plenty of fart, piss, and poop jokes. The toilet humor of Sasquatch Sunset seems to know no bounds. Yet, in my opinion, I’d say that for the most part, those gross-out comedy bits are arguably what weighs the film down a bit. Becoming so deeply engrossed in this film, I really did find myself wondering how lovely it would be if this sasquatch family actually did exist somewhere out there in the wild.

What’s so different between humans and the sasquatches of Sasquatch Sunset? Sure, they’re a bit less hygienic. But we all know at least one person who does some of the same things these sasquatches do and sees nothing wrong with it. This sasquatch family tries new foods whenever they come across it. They travel often and for no apparent reason, perhaps if only to see different sights. They’re clearly curious creatures. Always seeking out new experiences, or playing with and loving animals, these sasquatch are deeply human-like. Of course it helps that the performers in the film (Jesse Eisenberg, Riley Keough, Christophe Zajac-Denek, and Nathan Zellner) are wholly committed to bringing to life these mythical creatures as “accurately” as possible. But most importantly, it’s clear these sasquatches are just looking for companionship. They have developed a ritual in the hopes of discovering more creatures like them. These creatures show great intelligence and even deeper emotional wells when they aren’t displaying purely animalistic behavior. At least they have the excuse of being mythical creatures, what excuse do humans who do the same have?

With Sasquatch Sunset, the Zellner brothers have crafted an absolute joke of a film that also serves as a poignant piece of cinema. It’s unconventional and audacious, but it’s also so beautiful. This is the type of film that, if you love it, you’ll have to defend its brilliance for the rest of your life; and for good reason, too. After all, we turn to cinema in the hopes that we can see a reflection of the world around us, and hopefully change our ways to become like the characters we adore, or avoid the pitfalls of the characters we despise. So with this family of ridiculous sasquatches, perhaps we should all remember to live life a bit on the wild side. It seems like there’s far more adventures to be had that way.

Sasquatch Sunset celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section, and will be released by Bleecker Street later this year.

Grade: B

Chasing the Gold: The 2024 Oscar Nominations Recap!

It’s a great day for Oppenheimer! Christopher Nolan’s summer blockbuster epic received the highest number of Oscar nominations this morning with thirteen, nearly tying the record of fourteen. The film got in pretty much everywhere it could and now appears to be the frontrunner to win the Academy Award in early March for Best Picture.

In the top category, the ten Picture nominees matched the Producers Guild Awards top ten exactly, with no big surprise titles making it in. Poor Things received eleven Oscar nominations total, including Picture and Director, giving it the second-most of the morning. The Picture category ranges from movies like Barbie and Killers of the Flower Moon which also received lots of nominations across the board, all the way to Past Lives, which only managed two noms total—Picture and Original Screenplay.

The big surprise in Director was Greta Gerwig missing for Barbie after getting in almost everywhere, including the Directors Guild Awards. The director’s branch of the Academy opted to nominate two international films in the category—Anatomy of a Fall and The Zone of Interest. They also snubbed Alexander Payne for The Holdovers, which seemed a likely nomination given he had been recognized in this category three times before. It’s already looking like Christopher Nolan for Oppenheimer has this win in the bag, given he was victorious at Golden Globes and Critics Choice and has never won an Oscar. 

Best Actor turned out to be the expected five, the same line-up at SAG, and who most were predicting to get into the five slots at the Oscars. The support for Leonardo DiCaprio’s performance in Killers of the Flower Moon has faded in recent weeks, and so he missed, along with some other award season favorites like Barry Keoghan in Saltburn and Andrew Scott in All of Us Strangers. A tremendous achievement in this category is that Colman Domingo becomes only the second openly gay actor after Ian McKellan in Gods and Monsters to be nominated for playing an openly gay character in Rustin. In terms of a win here, this category comes down to either Paul Giamatti for The Holdovers or Cillian Murphy for Oppenheimer, and whoever wins at SAG in February will likely seal the deal. 

The biggest shocker in Best Actress was Margot Robbie missing for Barbie after being nominated pretty much everywhere else this season (although Robbie did score a producing nomination for the film). I hoped Greta Lee would make it in with enough passion votes, but sadly, she missed too. The most unexpected inclusion is Annette Bening for Nyad since she missed at Critics Choice and BAFTA for a movie that hasn’t performed well outside of the acting categories; this marks Bening’s fifth Oscar nomination to date, thus far without a win. Lily Gladstone also makes history by becoming the first Native American woman to be nominated for the Best Actress Academy Award for Killers of the Flower Moon. With Emma Stone winning at both the Golden Globes and Critics Choice for Poor Things, she is currently the frontrunner to win the Oscar, but both Sandra Hüller for Anatomy of a Fall and Gladstone are in contention as well. 

There were no huge surprises in Best Supporting Actor, only that Sterling K. Brown for American Fiction took a slot many thought was reserved for Willem Dafoe for Poor Things. Weeks in advance, this category is already so obviously Robert Downey Jr’s for the taking, after his victories at Golden Globes and Critics Choice. Best Supporting Actress had a pretty big stunner—America Ferrera for Barbie, a performance that until now had only gotten a nomination at Critics Choice. This category has been all over the place this season, so there seemed to be room for Penelope Cruz for Ferrari or Rosamund Pike for Saltburn, but both of those films turned up with no nominations. Danielle Brooks, who months ago was thought to be the frontrunner in this category, turned out to be The Color Purple’s only Oscar recognition. Like Downey Jr., Da’Vine Joy Randolph for The Holdovers has been overperforming in her category at all the precursor award shows and will probably win the Academy Award, too. 

The screenplay categories mostly matched up with the Best Picture nominees, the one outlier being May December, which got a lone nomination in Original Screenplay. Stunningly the only Best Picture nominee to not get nominated in a Screenplay category was Killers of the Flower Moon, although it probably would’ve made it if Barbie had been put in Original Screenplay and not Adapted Screenplay. 

The technical categories turned out to include a lot of Killers of the Flower Moon, Oppenheimer, and Poor Things nominations, with only the occasional surprise. El Conde received its only nomination for Best Cinematography. Napoleon made it into three technical categories, including Best Costume Design and Best Production Design. Godzilla Minus One received a well-deserved Best Visual Effects nomination. And John Williams received his near-record fifty-fourth nomination for Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny

The 96th Academy Awards airs live on ABC on Sunday, March 10 at 4pm PT / 7pm EST. 

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Love Lies Bleeding’ Proves How Crazy Love Can Make Us


Director: Rose Glass
Writers: Rose Glass and Weronika Tofilska
Stars: Anna Baryshnikov, Kristen Stewart, Dave Franco

Synopsis: A romance fueled by ego, desire and the American Dream.


Rose Glass introduces the principal characters of Love Lies Bleeding to her audience in the most telling way imaginable. When meeting Lou (Kristen Stewart), she is elbow deep into a toilet that’s beyond clogged. Jackie (Katy M. O’Brian) is drowned out by a constant barrage of gunfire as she is brought around the local shooting range. Immediately, she proves her mettle in the sense that she mocks the use of guns, as her preference lies more in the realm of up-close-and-personal. JJ (Dave Franco) is unfathomably repulsive, and would remain as a simply irritating man-child if he wasn’t a serial abuser to his wife, Beth (Jena Malone), who is also Lou’s sister. And finally, we meet Lou Sr. (an unhinged and wild-looking Ed Harris) who is caring for his oversized bug collection. The visual language of Love Lies Bleeding not only looks beautiful, but delivers expressive meaning with each new scene. And if this film is anything, it’s expressive. Every element seems carefully selected and fine tuned to trigger an audience’s emotions in some capacity. Take, for example, the music of the film, which intensely captures the overall vibe of Love Lies Bleeding. Considering how wild the tone of the film shifts between any given moment, it’s even more impressive. But if one were forced to sum up the film in a single word, I believe the best term would be sultry.

Lou and Jackie meet at Crater Gym, where Lou is the manager. Jackie, after hitchhiking across the country, has ended up in New Mexico as she makes her way to Las Vegas for a bodybuilding competition. While it’s immediately clear how driven Jackie is, there’s, at first, a looseness to her character that is not only compelling for the audience, but for Lou as well. As soon as the two meet, it’s clear there are more than just sparks; there are blazing flames. From that initial night, a raging intensity rings out whenever Stewart and O’Brian are sharing the screen. It’s immediately clear that the steamy first night they share with one another is so much more than a fling. One just has to look into Stewart’s eyes briefly to see that, maybe for the first time ever, she feels seen as something more than just another lost soul stuck in a small town. The first half of Love Lies Bleeding builds off of this dynamic between the two women, and it’s absolutely wonderful. And then, the film majorly pivots until everything comes crashing down.

Any undercurrent of romantic intensity transforms into something different. All of a sudden, there’s a sense of complete loss of control. However, there is still purpose and meaning behind the actions, even if they are more than a bit rash. With a shocking turn, Love Lies Bleeding basically becomes a gritty crime thriller. It’s riddled with drugs, guns, excessively frightening violence, and a ton of sweat. We bear witness to these intense bursts of rage that range from satisfying and worrisome to shocking and upsetting. And all this anger stems from a phrase which is often used jokingly, but in the case of this film, takes on a whole new meaning: Doesn’t love just make you do the craziest things?

The lengths we will go to for our significant others can sometimes be massive. We can find ourselves making the most irrational of decisions in the name of passion. It’s in the second half of Love Lies Bleeding that acts of mayhem begin snowballing in the name of love. But it’s also in this second half where Glass’ visuals begin to become more and more disorienting. Littered through the lens of heavy drug usage, viewers will be treated to a variety of body horror, surreal drug-induced nightmare sequences, and so much more. It’s shocking just how far Glass is able to take this film tonally and visually without overtly stepping into ridiculousness. But one gets the sense that this film, which also becomes much funnier the longer it plays out, knows exactly how far it’s able to push the viewer. This becomes a jet black comedy while also focusing on the horror of losing oneself to outside forces. You get the sense that these characters, all at various stages of their life, share a single thing in common: the deep dread of what it means to no longer make your own choices. But no two characters highlight that fear, and eventual acceptance, more than Lou and Jackie.

The final sequence of the film is, admittedly, a massive swing. Glass’ film shifts a handful of times, but perhaps none bigger than the very final one. Yet it captures this endearingly sweet idea that we can both make our own choices in life, and also give into the insanity that is being in love. We will put ourselves through the worst of it to ensure our partner can sleep soundly nearby. Love Lies Bleeding is incredibly poetic in how it slowly captivates the audience with a depiction of steamy love morphing into something darker, before ultimately making it through to the other side. With only her second feature film, Glass proves that she has an innate sense of filmmaking prowess, and isn’t afraid to make the type of film that will alienate many. But for those who are on board, strap in. Love might be crazy, but Love Lies Bleeding takes it to new heights.

Love Lies Bleeding celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Midnights section, and will be released by A24 in March.

Grade: B+

Op-Ed: What happened to Carol? The Women of Todd Haynes’s Cinematic World

Women are angry, scared, confused, and trapped. Women are decaying behind gorgeous floral arrangements, beautiful tapestries, and original paintings. Women are slowly fuming at baby showers, morning cocktail hour, or gossip by the pool -separated from the eyes of the public. Women are withering, not like flowers, but like bodies craving adventures beyond safely calculated lives and planned Sunday dinners. Todd Haynes understands women more than any other male filmmaker, or at least he’s on the Mount Rushmore of male directors who “get” women without fetishizing their suffering or manicuring their pretentious gatherings as fun. There are many Carols in Todd Haynes’s prickly cinema, where the pioneer of the Queer New Wave wanted to create his own aesthetic and dialectical imprint by introspecting what goes on behind closed doors in the luxurious suburbs of America. He used his “Carols” to investigate the lives of women, probably hiding behind a simple name as Carol to bring forth a subconsciously imprinted image of a White, blonde (or redhead) woman, looking out of the window beautifully and suffering in silence.

Armed with a perfect mise-en-scène, Haynes derived his 1995 film Safe using the socialites drowning in wealth as his protagonists. The film stars Carol (Julianne Moore), the concubine wife, whom her wealthy husband married -apparently- to show off to his peers and therefore criticizes her whenever she fails to fill the void represented by her role, such as in the scene in which she dozes off during dinner with his friends, and when she refuses to have sex with him because she is incapable of doing so. He again reprimands her for her failure as a wife and a homemaker in this spacious estate that he gave her. The difference is evident in the uncomfortable opening scene of the couple having sex. As the husband reaches climax, Carol looks cold, far from orgasm. Her husband does not notice her needs while selfishly demanding her to satisfy his in the aforementioned scene in which she fails to have sex. 

At first glance, Carol looks like a Barbie doll that many women aspire to become. But at a closer look, she is a dull person, unsuccessfully trying to make jokes, demanding authority in the most “polite” manner but failing to exert her power, even as the lady of the house. Her quiet voice, neutral tone, and slim build do not help her much. Carol tries to understand herself, eaten up by open-ended questions or tormented with guilt over an illness that has no root or cause. Her suffering is reflected in her frail body, and her beautiful, expressionless features until it becomes her only defining trait. 

Carol is a difficult protagonist to understand. She is not an oppressed woman in the definitional sense of the word, nor a strong woman holding the reins of her life and psychological affairs. She is also unable to understand her existential crisis, which Haynes analyzes through an omniscient lens, the knowledgeable narrator looking from the outside without interference, perhaps except for using a moving camera forward, which suggests Carol’s confinement in her picture-perfect world, as she struggles to get by what were once mundane daily life routines, unable to change or run away from them. 

The women of the 2023 film May December are not much different, as they both operate from different realms and work through different perspectives of the female experience. While Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman) is the narcissist, opportunist actress, thriving in attention while coyly pretending to dismiss it, Gracie (Julianne Moore) is a beautiful monster, masquerading as a caring, loving member of a suburban community, while secretly using her manipulative skills to prey on the beautiful butterfly that she trapped in her manor house; her husband Joe (Charles Melton).  

Both have bodies as frail and thin as butter paper, and Haynes doesn’t shy away from shooting them as they engage in their feminine mystique activities. As Gracie stages her melodramatic breakdowns every night in the safety of her bedroom with a mostly compliant Joe, Elizabeth boasts her sultry descriptions in front of a mirror or recreates scenes in pet stores’ stock rooms. Haynes creates this anti-fairytale feverish dream, in which light and darkness intersect to frame characters in silhouettes and haze. Like Jack Ketchum’s The Girl Next Door and Richard Yates’s Revolutionary Road, Haynes’s suburban shimmering Gothic dream hides a monster story underneath, one in which the princess damsel holds an even more vulnerable prince captive, to feed on him every night. The contrast between light and darkness, the lavender-like, floral colors that Gracie dresses in create a huge contrast to the film’s darker, more sinister plot, and the inhibited emotional growth that Joe endures daily.

In the case of Cathleen or Cathy in the 2002 film, Far From Heaven, the female protagonist is oppressed and overpowering at the same time. She oppresses her gay husband to stay with her, to deny his truth, to accept the world of a happily married, heterosexual American suburban couple. He, in turn, oppresses her through his mistreatment of her, his dismissal of her existence, his disregard for her house activities, and her desperate attempt to maintain the picture-perfect image. He doesn’t try once to acknowledge her plight. Haynes designs the film in the same style as Douglas Sirk’s classics. For example, he uses classical music and bright melodramatic tones to express too clearly the ambiguous relationships between the characters. Still, unlike Sirk’s films, Haynes’s color palette in Far From Heaven highlights the extent of disharmony between Cathy (Julianne Moore) and her husband (Dennis Quaid). When they are away from each other, searching for love in American bars that do not belong to their class, Haynes’s use of the color green shows that despite their different paths, the couple feels the same guilt stemming from their pursuit of forbidden love.  

On another note, the 2015 film Carol plays like an anti-Christmas movie, working against type as most of these films take advantage of the beauty of the scenery and decorations in Europe and America during the Christmas season. In Carol, Haynes uses Christmas decorations to besiege Carol (Cate Blanchett) in the empty house and a failed marriage; it seems as if the Christmas ritual is a dreary routine shackling Carol in colorful chains. She is more than a docile housewife making cakes and cookies to celebrate Christmas, but a passionate, ravenous lover seeking love that breaks her eternal suburban loneliness. On the other side of the world, Therese (Rooney Mara) also looks trapped in a toy store decorated for the Christmas season, or with comrades in bars where she is lonely in the middle of crowds. Both women are confined within worlds with too bright colors and mesmerizing interior design that only multiplies their misery and unfulfillment. Using symbolic objects like lipstick, wine glasses, Christmas trees, gloves, and fur coats, Haynes reserves passion for a selection of belongings, and items to revisit and haunt in dreams. Both Therese and Carol are haunted by one another, even if it seems as if only Therese is smitten by the dazzling Carol. 

The beauty of the scenes and shots in Haynes’s films, -depicting the female protagonist trapped in her ideal velvet world- masquerades the horror of the upper class that takes shelter behind wealth and delicate household details.  

Carol’s beautiful flower garden in Safe, Cathy’s in Far From Heaven, Gracie’s neat floral arrangements in May December, and the house filled with Christmas decorations and festivities in Carol are nothing but a forest that traps its protagonists and confines them to the space that narrows down on them like a noose, creating a backdrop to a façade of beautifying the ugly, and asserting control over a mess spiraling downward. Haynes dismantles the traditional heterosexual nuclear family system by rebelling against it, whether with the love story between two women in Carol or love between interracial relationships in Far From Heaven or by making a woman’s body rebel on itself in Safe.

In Safe, Haynes is interested in showing the confinement of Carol under her role as a wife and homemaker as her husband leaves every morning for work. The husband abandons Carol, thinking that he created a haven for her, but this idealistic mansion traps her in every frame, and through the wide-angle lens, in more than one scene the camera turns back as the dolly-zoom tightens the hold on Carol; the audience feels as if the camera’s proximity to her increases her distance from her world, not the other way around. Although Safe appears to be the least of Haynes’s films to shatter the modernist philosophy; with its traditionalism, an ordinary construct, and a clear, linear narrative line, the film’s time cycle connects in a circle, ending without salvation, solution, or a logical answer to anything that happened. 

In May December, the spacious beach house in Georgia is a labyrinthine creature in which Gracie not only entraps her husband/boy toy but also her guests and her children. The arched windows and slanted ceilings provide a false sanctuary for Joe to entrap more butterflies and watch them fly away and for Gracie the ultimate Victorian-era lover to encase Joe within a layer of beauty and domesticity, to mother and nurse him to a crooked sense of adulthood, one that is based on meals provided to him hand to mouth, and insistence on his being the first one to eat a slice of her cake. There’s a humidity to the atmosphere that creates a sense of eternal summer like this house never knows winter –whether the metaphorical or the seasonal coldness. In a sense, Gracie differs from Haynes’s traditional heroines, in that she is the one inflicting the suburban cocoon on herself and her partner, smothering herself and the lover with love and tenderness, so that suburbia becomes her tool rather than her prison. Or rather it becomes like a prison of one’s own, like self-imposed isolation of those who were hurt too much by the outside world that their mere existence in it could cause harm.

In Carol and Far From Heaven, a catalyst pushes the safe woman away from her suburban domestic life to rebel and go out of the ordinary, throwing her home-bound life behind to seek love. Cathy always wears clothes that have a degree or a hue that blends in with the background or the set design. She appears as if she is in harmony with the surroundings like a good, docile 50s wife, but in reality, it makes her scarily trapped, lethally meshed to the fabric of the surroundings, if she wanted out, she would have to tear a part of her with it, abandoning all hope. Carol, on the other hand, is still the daughter of the same colorful times, but instead of glorifying it, glossing it over like pastel-tinted images in a magazine, Haynes chose to villainize the colors, making greens acidic, some dirty yellows and pinks, giving a seediness to the false suburban sense of safety evoked by well-furnished houses and decorated trees, manicured lawns, and cozy bedrooms.

Haynes perfects the use of camera angles, lighting, and color tones to express the women’s unhappiness or their appropriation of a moment of ecstasy and passion on the sidelines of their flashy lives, crowded with visual details that contribute to framing them according to certain masculine outlook -that of their husbands or lovers.

Haynes’s women are depressed, repressed, and outcasts in their subordinate existence on the peripheries of the lives of their husbands. He just happens to show that through a floral collection, a lens forgiving but unrelenting in this exposition of human misery.

2023 Insession Film Winners – Staff Picks

We have an important update to our InSession Film Awards. We now have our winners as voted on by our staff and writers!

Note: Winners are in bold

Best Picture

Oppenheimer
Past Lives
Anatomy of a Fall
The Zone of Interest
Poor Things
Barbie
All of Us Strangers
Killer of the Flower Moon
Saltburn
The Holdovers

Best Actor

Cillian Murphy – Oppenheimer
Jeffrey Wright – American Fiction
Paul Giamatti – The Holdovers
Andrew Scott – All of Us Strangers
Teo Yoo – Past Lives

Best Actress

Lily Gladstone – Killers of the Flower Moon
Emma Stone – Poor Things
Sandra Huller – Anatomy of a Fall
Greta Lee – Past Lives
Natalie Portman – May December

Best Actor Supporting Role

Charles Melton – May December
Ryan Gosling – Barbie
Robert Downey, Jr. – Oppenheimer
Paul Mescal – All of Us Strangers
Sterling K. Brown – American Fiction

Best Actress Supporting Role

Da’Vine Joy Randolph – The Holdovers
Rachel McAdams – Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret
Danielle Brooks – The Color Purple
Emily Blunt – Oppenheimer
Julianne Moore – May December

Best Director

Christopher Nolan – Oppenheimer
Celine Song – Past Lives
Yorgos Lanthimos – Poor Things
Justine Triet – Anatomy of a Fall
Martin Scorsese – Killers of the Flower Moon

Best Original Screenplay

Anatomy of a Fall
Past Lives
May December
Saltburn
The Holdovers

Best Adapted Screenplay

Oppenheimer
Killers of the Flower Moon
Poor Things
The Zone of Interest
All of us Strangers

Best Cinematography

Oppenheimer
Killers of the Flower Moon
Poor Things
The Zone of Interest
Saltburn

Best Documentary

Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie
Beyond Utopia
Four Daughters
20 Days in Mariupol
Kokomo City

Best International Film

Anatomy of a Fall
The Zone of Interest
The Boy and The Heron
Fallen Leaves
The Taste of Things

Best Animated Movie

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
The Boy and the Heron
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem
Suzume
Nimona

Best Original Score

Oppenheimer
The Boy and the Heron
Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
The Zone of Interest
Poor Things

Best Use of Song (Original or Pre-Existing)

Saltburn – “Murder on the Dancefloor”
Barbie – “I’m Just Ken”
Anatomy of a Fall – “P.I.M.P.”
Priscilla – “I Will Always Love You”
Beau is Afraid – “Always Be My Baby”

Best Opening/Closing Credits Sequence or Scene

The Killer (tie)
John Wick: Chapter 4 (tie)
Poor Things
Asteroid City
Beau is Afraid

Best Overlooked Movie

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret
Showing Up
Theater Camp
Passages
Monica

Best Surprise Movie

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem
Theater Camp
They Cloned Tyrone
Blackberry

Best Surprise Actor/Actress

Zac Efron
Greta Lee
Charles Melton
Milo Machado-Graner
Abby Ryder-Fortson

Best Movie Discovery

Celine Song
Milo Machado-Graner
Cord Jefferson

Dominic Sessa
Samy Burch

Be sure to hear the 2023 InSession Film Awards on Episode 567!

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): ‘Freaky Tales’ Amps Up The Underdog Story to Eleven


Directors: Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck
Writers: Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck
Stars: Pedro Pascal, Ben Mendelsohn, Angus Cloud

Synopsis: Four interconnected stories set in 1987 Oakland, CA. will tell about the love of music, movies, people, places and memories beyond our knowable universe.


After making the $1 billion dollar grossing Captain Marvel, the filmmaking duo of Anna Boden and Ryan Fleck have returned to their indie roots. And it’s almost immediately apparent that they did, in fact, come to play. Their latest film, Freaky Tales, is consistently chaotic, but has a very distinct through line that works wonders for the film as a whole. Set entirely in Oakland in 1987, the film is broken up into 4 chapters, all of which deal with their own slew of characters and establishments that they clash against. Tying it all together is the distinct adoration and respect for Oakland culture, while never shying away from the uglier truths and oppressive forces that existed during the time. There are Nazis present, alongside corrupt, perverted cops, and much more that fuels the entity known as “The Man”. Having been raised in Oakland, Fleck brings a realistic depiction of what makes the city so unique, even if the film often dives shouting headfirst into the realm of pulpy shlock. For fans of filmmakers committing to a bit, this will be a surefire hit. It’s deeply indulgent to say the least, and, in my humble opinion, contemporary cinema needs more filmmakers taking bombastic swings after making a billion dollars for the biggest studio in history.

The film opens with a narrative crawl that feels deeply reminiscent of Little Shop of Horrors. In all honesty, the comparisons extend far beyond just the opening moments. Importantly, the Off-Broadway classic is perhaps one of the greatest examples of an underdog story. With Freaky Tales, Boden & Fleck fit four underdog tales into one. Does that make it the greatest underdog film of all time as an insane cameo in the film debates? Perhaps not in hindsight, but in the moment, it certainly does feel like it’s the case. The reason being is that so consistently do the filmmakers put their underdog characters against the previously mentioned scum of the earth: Nazis, misogynists, perverts. So often does the film place its heroes against the corrupt establishments which prop up hatred and villainy and allows them free reign among Oakland. In a situation like the ones presented, how could anybody not root for maximum payback? Lucky for audiences, this occurs four times over before the film comes to a close.

The four chapters of Freaky Tales occur roughly over the course of the same day and a half. The first chapter follows a band of punk rock fans who frequent their local watering hole for moshing and lively punk shows. There’s a thrillingly cinematic sequence that brings us right into the madness of the bar, but importantly, it never feels dangerous. There is a clear and distinct notion of community surrounding this group, and that undercurrent is felt, especially when juxtaposed to the band of skinheads coming to torment them. Constantly getting accosted by the group of Nazis, the group decides to do something about it. What one might not expect is a complete and immediate turn into pulpy madness as the two forces clash against one another. Bursting at the seams with a ridiculously fun and creative flourish, Freaky Tales very much feels like Boden & Fleck have broken the shackles of deeply restrictive franchise filmmaking to make exactly the film they set out to make. And of course, there’s nothing more rewarding than seeing Nazis get absolutely pummeled in the streets.

In his opening remarks regarding the film, Fleck displayed his deep adoration for the slew of subjects this film is enamored with: the 1987 Golden State Warriors, legendary rapper Too $hort and the Oakland hip-hop scene, late-night movie rental shops, underground punk rock, and so much more. Importantly though, Freaky Tales doesn’t shy away from the elements of these subcultures that history has perhaps looked past in the name of nostalgic reverence. For example, while there is a clear love for Oakland legend Too $hort, the second chapter focuses on the real-life hip-hop duo, Danger Zone. Rappers Entice (Dominique Thorne) and Barbie (Normani) get invited to battle live on stage against the rapper. In typical golden age hip-hop fashion, Too $hort’s lyrics are incredibly misogynistic and focused on the notion that his opponents are women. With immersive camerawork, the duo lash back at Too $hort and take down his entire persona in a way that’s both venomous and confident. It’s a stand-out sequence of the film that does a whole lot with some simple yet foundational cinematic tricks. The talent behind the camera is crystal clear as the audience of both the film, and the audience within the film, becomes immensely drawn in.

The third chapter is where the film feels at its most haphazardly thrown together. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with the sequence. After all, it stars the Internet’s “Daddy”, Pedro Pascal, and he’s great as always. Through a very intense chain of events, which feel so tonally different from everything previously seen, one may wonder if this was initially devised as a longer feature, before simply being fit into the larger anthology narrative. As it stands on its own, it would make an excellent short film, but the frightening, and at times, incredibly depressing tone, make for an odd shift. It is rescued a bit with the fourth chapter however, which feels linked to its predecessor. It depicts the part-fact, part-fiction night of May 10, 1987, when Golden State Warrior Eric “Sleepy” Floyd (Jay Ellis) had a legendary playoff performance. In the film, what follows is something that could only be described as maximum grindhouse shlock. For the next 35 minutes, Boden & Fleck completely let loose on the cinematic sensibilities they clearly adore. From Kill Bill to Scanners to Death Wish, this is a film that will play exceedingly well for genre fans.

While the two halves of the film certainly feel a bit disjointed, each duology of chapters make for a great 50-55 minute set of double features. Aside from having minor interactions with one another, the chapters mostly remain isolated in each of the four sections of Oakland that are explored. While an anthology film is great in its own right and allows for a variety of filmmaking techniques to be explored, Freaky Tales feels like it would benefit immensely from much more cohesive threads all running throughout the stories of one another. But when this much love for both genre and a unique place pour off the screen, it’s easy to see why this film is just so fun and captivating. The more a filmmaker stands strong behind their intentions with a film, the stronger the film will feel in the end. 

Freaky Tales celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Premieres section.

Grade: B-

Movie Review (Sundance 2024): I Saw the TV Glow Examines Our Relationship With Art


Director: Jane Schoenburn
Writer: Jane Schoenburn
Stars: Justice Smith, Brigette Lundy-Paine, Amber Benson

Synopsis: Two teenagers bond over their love of a supernatural TV show, but it is mysteriously cancelled.


After the major buzz of their last film, We’re All Going to the World’s Fair, filmmaker Jane Schoenburn became quite the genre filmmaker star. Any possible doubt regarding their talent will be instantly quelled with I Saw The TV Glow. Prior to the world premiere of the film, Schoenburn stated their vision for the film prior to the first day of shooting. With “I Saw The TV Glow, they “tried to make a movie that would play at midnight screenings at the IFC Center for 20–30 years to come.” It only takes a few minutes to realize that their vision is basically set in stone, but furthermore, it shows that Schoenburn has absolutely no thoughts of slowing down their complete commitment of bringing bold filmic visions to audiences.

The film opens with Owen (a career-best Justice Smith) revealing that he has just decided to restart his favorite show after being unable to sleep. The fictional show is called The Pink Opaque, and it’s television made for young adults. Think along the lines of Saved By The Bell or Boy Meets World… except way more demented. Upon his first introduction to the show through 9th grader Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine), she explains how yes, it is a kids show, but it’s also way more than that. It’s full of deep lore and an artistic vision that would give most adults nightmares. The few glimpses Schoenburn creates for their audience begin as comedic, but slowly morph into something frightening. In many ways, it feels like an encapsulation of the film and Schoenburn’s directorial vision, which will be touched upon in a moment. But right off the bat, Schoenburn poses a question that, while on the surface it may seem simple, is far more complex and rooted in our very own existentialism. 

Why, in a world that constantly has new art being created, do we find ourselves being drawn back to those comfort watches? What’s the specific reason behind restarting a show for the umpteenth time? The simple answer is that it reminds us of a time that has since passed. Watching a show we used to watch as kids is no different than smelling a homemade family recipe. Yet there’s also something that could be a bit frightening about revisiting something we once connected with in our past. To address this idea, it’s important to note why we even turn to art in the first place, beyond mere entertainment.

Art often presents the answers to our dilemmas in a way we can cope with at a distance. It’s cathartic to see a character we admire or love in the same situation we believe ourselves to be in. Overcoming obstacles either physically, mentally, or emotionally in real life is difficult. But if we see all of our favorite characters in movies and television do it, why can’t we follow in their footsteps? We often look to external sources in the hopes that we are able to gain perspective of our own lives. And that seeming inability to solve our own problems both powerfully and bravely, as Owen and Maddy obsess over the main teen characters of The Pink Opaque, might drive us a bit mad. The two begin to find the lines of reality and television blurred, and as they become more entranced by this TV show, their minds appear to become more and more fragmented. Smith, as Owen, delivers such a stone-faced performance full of melancholy, and as his life begins making less and less sense, the performance only strengthens.

Take, for example, an expert cameo that Schoenburn places in the middle of the film with an incredibly beloved comedic actor. Known for his brash abrasiveness, through the lens of the film, it becomes utter discomfort. In the eyes of Owen, it’s as if he fundamentally cannot make sense of the world without the glow of his television. And all those around him, with the exception of Maddy, either try to pick up the pieces, question bluntly, or don’t seem to care at all. It’s a  vicious cycle of loneliness, with only The Pink Opaque to guide him through his solace. But even that turns menacing as we learn that the show not only was canceled, but left on an abrupt, frightening cliffhanger.

In what is surely one of the most stunningly crafted and deeply horrific sequences of the year, Owen’s reality all but collapses in on itself. If the art we see ourselves in so deeply and so fully is not only canceled, but ends in such a way that shows there’s no hope for even the best of us, what are we to do? It’s a devastating feeling to lose out on any show, but for characters like Owen and Maddy, it’s clear that their obsession often teeters on the edge of being detrimental. In the end, the art we turn to in the time of need may go away, but it also might return in a new form. As Owen, years later, realizes the show is now streaming, an incredibly comedic and bleak realization is made. Time marches ever onward, and in the space of a single cut, two decades might pass, and we find ourselves inexplicably lost in an aging body. And when that realization is made, when there is seemingly nobody else to turn to, and we realize we might be walking through life practically a ghost… What more is there to do other than shriek for help and pray somebody might hear and come to aid us? Make no mistake, Schoenburn’s I Saw The TV Glow is an incredibly bleak portrayal of feeling separated from one’s true self. Yet, it also remains a vital outlook on queer and trans identity, and is emboldened by its consistently unique vision and personal depth. Schoenburn has crafted such a detailed and visceral portrayal of their experience with transitioning, and will surely remain a critical piece of queer filmmaking for decades to come. In the end, it looks like the IFC Center will always have a bit of guaranteed programming to look forward to.

I Saw The TV Glow celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival in the Midnight section, and will be released by A24 later this year.

Grade: A-

Interview: Director Pete Ohs

Indie auteur, and possible benevolent alien, Pete Ohs is back with a new film opening at Slamdance. Love and Work is an absurdist comedy and love story set in an alternate world where the government has decreed that to work or create anything of use is illegal. The warm-hearted satire stars Stephanie Hunt, Will Madden, Alexi Pappas, and Frank Mosely. 

Ohs is an editor, director, cinematographer, and all-around legend of redefining Americana. His previous work includes Everything Beautiful is Far Away starring Julia Garner, Jethica starring Callie Hernandez, and Youngstown starring Stephanie Hunt. 

Nadine Whitney spoke to Pete about his collaborative ethic, his workaholic tendencies, and why people seem to do ludicrous things.

Nadine Whitney: One of the first things I’ve noted in your work is that it’s often a process of collaboration. Stephanie Hunt who stars in Love and Work was also the backbone and star of Youngstown. Will Madden was in Jethica which also featured Andy Faulkner. Often you have your actors working as writers and improvising. How important are your buddies in shaping your films?

Pete Ohs: The entire reason for making these movies is because my favorite thing to do when I was fifteen was make videos with my best friends. I’m just trying to recapture that feeling.

The actors are always extremely involved in the making of these films. They help with writing. They help pick out the costumes. They help name the characters they are playing. This collaborative aspect of filmmaking is what makes it special.

NW: Speaking of buddies, a through line in your films seems to be that if you find the right people, friends or lovers, you can get through almost anything. Everything Beautiful is Far Away features a trio of misfits (one a robot head) searching for a seemingly mythical crystal lake in an unspecified dystopia. Youngstown is about finding connection not only through place but through acceptance. In Love and Work two people find each other admits a strange utopia/dystopia. What do you like about oddball “couples”?

PO: Connecting with another human is maybe the most meaningful thing we can do. It’s something I constantly seek out. It can also be quite rare to find so it’s fun to spend time in stories where it happens.

NW: You have worked in many genres. Science fiction, ghost stories, dislocated realism, and the comedy and pathos involved in all of them. Through seeming absurdity, you are asking quite profound philosophical questions. Do you think of yourself as a comedic philosopher? Someone like perhaps Jacques Tati?

PO: I often feel more like an alien who observes humans and wonders why they do the silly things they do. And I prefer to work in genres because I get enough of the real world in everyday life, so filmmaking is an opportunity to play in a land of make-believe.

NW: You have a very specific relationship to oddball Americana. Whether that be a place, like Youngstown, or a version of rust belt decline which can also be seen in Love and Work. Your music videos also show the same aesthetic. How does the American landscape and the people that are often not seen resonate with you?

PO: I grew up in a small town in Ohio. It’s who I am and where I come from so this is the perspective I’m bringing to the work. I’ve also been on many, many road trips across America. For me, all these people and places are filled with nostalgia and evoke many different memories and emotions.

NW: Despite years in the business in some capacity, you have had to hustle to get things funded and distributed. Needing to work but not being able to create anything is part of the thesis of Love and Work. Is there something personal being said in the film?

PO: Basically, my one and only vice is that I’m a workaholic. In our society, this is an acceptable, and even rewarded, dysfunction. At the same time, work provides more than income. It builds community and gives a sense of purpose. I want to work. I love to work! But it isn’t healthy when it becomes an extreme. The challenge is finding a balance.

NW: Other than a good cup of coffee and maybe a delicious donut, what gets you out of bed every day?

PO: Working gets me out of bed. It also gets me to bed early. I love a good full night of sleep knowing I’ll be waking up with a full day of work ahead of me.

NW: “Quirky sincerity” is one of the ways people describe your films. Do you believe comedy is a way to explore truth?

PO: I literally feel tickled by ideas. When I’m trying to figure something out and I start to laugh, it means a good idea is coming. I also think a sense of humor is a hugely useful quality to have while navigating existence. Laughing releases pressure which is essential for solving problems.

NW: What do you hope audiences will get out of their experience of watching Love and Work?

PO: Hopefully, Love and Work is fun to watch. And if it stimulates some meaningful reflections and conversations around what we want our world to be like, then that’s great too.

Love and Work opens at Slamdance Film Festival on January 20, 2024

Classic Movie Review: ‘Runaway’ is Just Entertaining Enough to Keep You Interested


Director: Michael Crichton
Writers: Michael Crichton
Stars: Tom Selleck, Cynthia Rhodes, Gene Simmons

Synopsis: In the near future, a police officer specializes in malfunctioning robots. When a robot turns out to have been programmed to kill, he begins to uncover a homicidal plot to create killer robots… and his son becomes a target.


Thanks to his fear of heights, widower and single dad Sergeant Jack Ramsay (Tom Selleck) works the ridiculed Runaway Police Division – chasing after errant robots with new Officer Karen Thompson (Cynthia Rhodes). Unfortunately, commonplace robots are now killing, thanks to elaborate microchips designed by Dr. Charles Luther (Gene Simmons), who is eliminating anyone who stands in his way in order to sell his chip templates to the highest bidder. Ramsay must now confront his fears and face a devious enemy who’s always one step ahead thanks to his high-tech weaponry.


Michael Crichton (Westworld) writes and directs the 1984 procedural Runaway, and from the cranky captain and the psychic working for the police department to the romantic conflict of interest between male and female partners, this is brimming with all the cop cliches. Sexy interrogations, stripping down in the de-bug scanning machine, police escort decoys, uniform disguises, and highway chases lead to a rising body count and the villain calling into the police station but hanging up before they can get a trace. We can predict when the baddie hacks into the department system and attacks our officers at home, yet there’s a deliberate comfort in this familiar framework. Runaway’s then contemporary safety makes it easier to go along with the clunky robot fantastics. Many computer terms and technobabble talk are out of date, but today we can certainly relate to the repetitive robot being yelled at to shut up when it isn’t being spoken to a la our ubiquitous echos.

While some special effects are understandably humorous, Crichton shrewdly keeps the focus on whether the people are relaxed over often errant robots or fearful of modified killing machines. Officers new to the Runaway department can ask audience questions and the robot explanations often come with internal jokes and good humor. This laughably serious mix works because we like the cops – it’s both uneven now yet surprisingly self-aware of the silliness by the time our Sergeant is beating a rogue sentry robot with an office chair. Runaway wastes no time in getting to the rogue farming robot, helicopter fears, the farmers laughing at them, and the journalists who think a crying baby in peril thanks to a violent kitchen model is going to be a great shocker for the evening news. Noir shadows and light accent an eerie crime scene with bloody motorized prints on the floor, but Runaway doesn’t always keep up the suspense – the early chuckles and chastising the housekeeper robot for giving a kid too many hot dogs allow us time to breath as this ride along builds naturally with each scene and set piece.

People reminisce about obsolete models that burned the toast, and entire construction sites are automated – no breaks, overtime, union issues – but there are insurance technicalities about who can turn off a stacker bot throwing blocks off the roof. If these unauthorized chips cause fatal malfunctions, it’s not a technical mistake but murder. Bullets that can go around corners and explode pursue our cops, and we see the very freaky point of view amid classified projects at the shady security company and damsels in distress that aren’t who they seem. The routine moments and breathers get shorter as the hotel stakeouts, dizzying stairwells, rooftop stand offs, shootouts, and bot sieges escalate.

Provocative questions about which terrorists or corporations would benefit from sophisticated, heat seeking devices postulate on the big picture while seemingly small bullet wounds are actually embedded explosives in need of immediate removal. The medical monitors are intense with very little as sweating humans would rather take responsibility than let the robots make a mistake and we believe the resulting pain. Runaway doesn’t need today’s excessive effects or suspense orchestrated in the editing room thanks to people in peril and the cop who left his glasses in the car but intends to see the job through anyway. Killer trackers and fiery lasers create highway perils as jumps from car to car escalate to restaurant hostages, public trade-offs, unaware crowds caught in the crossfire, and a memorable demise in the reflecting pool. Thunderstorms accent the spider robots climbing the bathroom walls, and the construction site finale provides elevator dangers and call backs to those earlier on high fears. The spider bots await below while the exposed lift is stuck in the air with no space to avoid the encroaching mechanical critters. Mano y mano battles lead to facing one’s fears, ironic justice, machine toppers, and eighties kisses.

There’s never a doubt that Tom Selleck’s (Magnum P.I.) widower Sergeant Jack Ramsay is a good guy. After losing a killer suspect thanks to his fear of heights, he chose to toil in the Runaway department so he wouldn’t be held back on the streets. Despite some robotics expertise, there are reasons why he doesn’t always trust machines and does things himself, including the brief mention of his wife dying in a car crash and the use of robot drivers. Ramsay says his house bot Lois thinks she is both his wife and his mother, but he’s a great dad when not somersaulting over the desks to impress a pretty lady and stop a sentry robot. Ramsay does get cranky, however, worrying as the case mounts. He knows they are up against too many variables once everything goes awry and he must confront his fears.

We briefly see Kiss hard rocker Gene Simmons early in Runaway as the juicy villain setting up his rival with a suitcase full of paper and an acid shooting robot. However, it’s better when he pops up as a repairman in disguise, lingering at crime scenes, or in the set ups gone wrong because he’s always one step ahead of the cops. His face looks eerie on their monitors, and we believe Luther will eliminate anyone who interferes with his plans. Luther also won’t be betrayed, and Simmons is bemusingly compelling as a chilling menace thanks to his nonchalant, almost camp stare. Cynthia Rhodes’ (Dirty Dancing) traffic transfer Karen Thompson has a wild first few days on the job in Runaway. She preposterously wears a skirt and heels for most of the picture amid the most daring stakeouts and injuries, but Karen’s easy to talk to and likable. We’re on her side as the outsider entering this goofy, increasingly dangerous robot pursuit. Though previously indecisive and overzealous, she admits this excitement is too much, making jokes and whimpering in pain. Viewers wouldn’t blame her if she quit, but Karen sticks by Ramsay – even when she shouldn’t.

Despite the boxy suit jacket, the late Kirstie Alley (Cheers) is an alluring bad girl. Sassy Jackie is stunning in leather, smokes, and tries to remain cool despite her fearful association with Luther, the bugs he plants all over her clothes, and the whips marks on her back. She feigns innocence despite the femme fatale double cross, a vixen who doesn’t overstay her welcome but warns Ramsay his white knight posturing will get someone killed. Our son Joey Cramer (Flight of the Navigator), on the other hand, is a tad pretentious, seemingly too old to be asking golly gee questions. We don’t see him much, but it might have been more interesting to have Ramsay childless – keep his motivation about overcoming his own fear, getting the bad guys, and even revenge for his damaged robot housekeeper. The Lois robot looks like a stack of ye olde stereo equipment on wheels but she makes the pasta al dente and damn if we don’t feel bad when she’s damaged and losing hydraulic fluid!


The tense Jerry Goldsmith (The Omen) score provides electronic notes that seamlessly match those gizmos and sound effects. Runaway does have some futuristic electromagnetic armor and cool weapons, however the overall look here is decidedly contemporary, gritty rather than sci-fi glam. The standard police uniforms, traditional cop cars, and good old .357 magnum (because of course) are fitting considering this is the early eighties when home computers were rare, microwaves were new to the kitchen, and mobile phones were massive. Retro computers, coding, graphics, big motherboards, and bigger monitors here are primitive. The robots are clunky – nothing more than boxes with fancy lights or one that looks like a decorated overhead projector. Yet Runaway was ahead of its time with computers in the police cars, driver-less cars, clipboard looking tablets at the crime scene, reconnaissance drones, retina scans, voice controlled databases, and doorbell cameras. Understandably, the camera footage we see is old and fuzzy and can be rewound like a VCR, the squad room still has classic telephone rings and typewriter click clack, and these valuable microchip templates that everyone’s after are just a wallet full of old photo negatives.

Fortunately, high-rise camera angles that show the city buildings and grid streets looking not dissimilar to the machine circuitry add subtle visual interest while topless ladies, violence, and F-bombs push the newly created PG-13 rating. There’s a lot of tech talk with letters, dashes, and numbers to make things sound Z-22, 5000 model cool, which honestly we still do, and I would very much like to have that automated sushi machine! Runaway is a thriller crime drama that happens to have science fiction elements. It stands on its own, but it also unfortunately came out the same year as a little film called The Terminator and thus, bombed at the box office. Did you have to see Runaway then to enjoy it now? Perhaps. Does it falter in comparison to that other 1984 robot spectacle? Certainly. If you are expecting all out science fiction, Runaway could be disappointing, however there are a few frights, wild robots, and surprising set pieces that remain memorable. Once unavailable and obscure, now Runaway makes the rounds on FAST services, but for years everyone thought I was making this movie up with Magnum P.I., the lead singer from Kiss, and killer spider robots. There’s humor, mystery, MacGuffins, technology, protagonists to root for, and creepy villains to hate that keep Runaway bemusing, suspenseful, and worth a look today.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘The End We Start From’ Asks What Would You Protect


Director: Mahalia Belo
Writers: Alice Birch, Megan Hunter
Stars: Jodie Comer, Joel Fry, Benedict Cumberbatch

Synopsis: A woman tries to find her way home with her newborn while an environmental crisis submerges London in floodwaters.


“If our lives were to flood, what are the moments that would float to the surface?” – Lucille Clifton.

Raven Jackson opened her extraordinary film of Black identity, family, and place All Dirt Roads Taste of Salt with Lucille Clifton’s inquiry. Although vastly different films; Mahalia Belo’s The End We Start From asks the same question in a more literal manner. Jodie Comer plays an expectant mother (her name is “Woman”). She is taking a bath, immersed in water and stroking her swollen belly. Outside it is raining. In a short space of time, the rain will become an uncontrollable flood which demolishes her London home. Her waters will break, and her husband R (Joel Fry) will rush her to the hospital where she gives birth to their son.

The flood that R and Woman are experiencing is a country wide crisis. London is no longer inhabitable, and people are fleeing to rural areas and higher ground. R is from a self-sufficient family and because he is returning to his home village and because Woman is cradling the newly born Zeb, the police and army manning the roadblocks let them through.

For a short while, R and Woman are safe enough with R’s parents (Mark Strong and Nina Sosanya). However, eventually their supplies run out and the rot of the water seeping through the ground means that their garden is no longer flourishing. Leaving Woman and Zeb in the house, R and his parents seek food from emergency shelters and government facilities. Britain is in a state of ecological crisis and people have lost their sense of “civility.” R and his father return broken by the experience. The once gentle and sanguine R becomes hushed and bruised by trauma he cannot articulate. The audience and Woman become aware of the ferocious calamity happening in populated areas. Britain is a crisis zone and death, looting, and violence are all that awaits.

Yet, R and Woman must take Zeb with them and find crisis accommodation before they starve. Woman is no longer able to breastfeed as she is starving. R is disoriented. Jodie Comer’s seeking eyes take in the broken world with incomprehension. She was once a hairstylist living in London. She had no preparation for an apocalypse. But then again, who really does?

Separated from R at one of the emergency shelters, she becomes friends with O (Katherine Waterson) who is also a mother to a young child. They bond over not only the weight of the crisis they are witnessing but the pressures of motherhood itself. O is far more cynical and rebellious than Woman. O’s embracing determination leads to Woman and O moving across the country to find a safe harbour commune run by a former financial scion. “Rich people who make artisan bread,” O quips. However, the island commune is somewhere they can raise their children safely and escape a world gone mad.

As Woman and O undertake their perilous journey to the commune, they come across those who would harm and those who will help. One person who helps is an unnamed man (Benedict Cumberbatch) who is going in the opposite direction. He feeds O, Woman, and their children. They dance and drink to find a small respite from the horrors they have faced. He tells the women that the commune exists, and it is the safest place to raise their children. When Woman asks why he isn’t there himself, he tells them it is because the commune wants to cut itself off from reality. It doesn’t want to remember. The only way he can honor his lost wife and family is to return to where they disappeared.

Essentially what Belo and screenwriter Alice Birch are asking is, what do you sacrifice to survive? What must you do to protect an innocent from the worst aspects of humanity? At times Woman is that innocent, at others it is Zeb, and it had formerly been R and his parents. Jodie Comer plays Woman with such a commanding presence. Every emotion Woman feels is expressed with complete legitimacy. When Comer is joyful the audience feels the tension slip away, even if it is only momentarily. When she is afraid, we are not only afraid for her but of the reality she is facing. The balance between Comer and Waterson’s personalities is exquisite. They both take turns of being mothers not only to each other’s children but themselves.

As Woman flashes back to her life with R, we find out that she was revitalized by his presence. She suffered intense depression soon after they met because of the sudden death of her parents. Their quickly flirtatious romance became deeper because he was her caregiver. Her fear of death inspired her to have a child, “Something I could protect. Something I would die for.”

All of Woman’s decisions begin to have a logic to them. Leaving one place of protection to find a better one, even if that means extreme risk. She is fighting to safeguard her family. There is both a micro and macro reading of The End We Start From. In a time of disaster, everyone is fighting to stay alive. It can be a collective effort or individualist. On a smaller scale it is asking what a woman, specifically named “Woman,” will do to keep those she loves safe and together. When the world floods – what do you save?

Mahalia Belo’s debut feature is beautifully shot by Suzie Lavelle who points her camera towards not only the landscape of a waterlogged Britain, but also at Comer’s face which is perhaps the strongest narrative device in the film. It is modestly budgeted, and Belo uses her most expensive shots very well. Waterson, Fry, and side actors such as Gina McKee, Mark Strong, and Benedict Cumberbatch all turn in solid performances. However, without Jodie Comer there would be little to distinguish The End We Start From in relation to many other crisis-dystopia narratives. 

The End We Start From is adapted from Megan Hunter’s novel of the same name. The novel itself was episodic and sparse and Birch has tried to fill in the ellipses of Hunter’s writing and translate them into an effective script. Ultimately, the film does get lost in places and begins to meander. The audience can understand the metaphors of water, motherhood, survival, and catastrophe. The idea of a world suddenly exploded both by a new life which requires constant care and the background of a land sinking beneath everyone’s feet leaving them disconnected, desperate, and confused. The End We Start From is a little too concerned with telling the audience what is going on rather than letting them infer what is quite apparent. Ultimately, any time spent with Jodie Comer giving a serious dramatic performance is never wasted, and The End We Start From utilizes her prodigious talent.

Grade: B-

Op-Ed: Male Vulnerability On Screen Through the Performances of River Phoenix and Harris Dickinson

Back when the cinema was male-dominated and observed, the female body was the only communication tool. Directors showcased their desires, perversion, fears, infatuation, or repulsion through the lens, the camera angle, and the shot. It always had a woman at the center of the tale and usually involved the woman whose face and body the camera –and the director- loved.

Until our female and queer directors became full-blown veterans, working their way through bigger and more solid projects, as they sank their feet into the land of filmmaking, framing the male body and face differently from how hardcore “heterosexual” male directors did. Queer and female filmmakers not only gave a more sympathetic, less aggressive inspection of the female body and sexuality, but they deconstructed traditional masculinity by making men the object of desire, flamboyance, and dissolution of the conventional power dynamics. 

Those thoughts and more came to me as I watched a young Harris Dickinson unravel in Beach Rats –director Eliza Hittman’s beautiful meditation on poverty, sexuality, masculinity, coming-of-age, and existence in a small town in which time stretches forever.

Hittman accentuates Dickinson’s aesthetics for the role, perfectly encapsulating his fragility, sensitivity, lack of solid acting chops, and his visible discomfort with being watched and seen all the time. Not only was Frankie an uncomfortable young man in his skin, but so was Dickinson, hurled on himself, hiding in bed, under the covers, or even using his cap as an armor to shield his features from the world, sometimes wearing it backward just to appear cool in front of his buddies, whose company he prefers to his girlfriend, or pulling a hoodie down to cover his face as he stays in bed next to a client after sleeping with him.

Hittman uses the female (supposed) protagonist role to emphasize the mystery that is Frankie’s body and sexuality. Madeline Weinstein plays the girlfriend, Simone, with such playful flirtatious beauty. Yes, she is a small-town girl as much as Frankie, but her self-reliance and accomplishment make her bolder and more assured than him. She knows she wants him, and what she wants him to do to her. When she’s after something, she gets it. But Frankie is gay to the bone, fighting a reality that is becoming visible more and more as days go by. He’s awkward and scared, unable to comprehend what to do with his body, not just with his girlfriend but with all the male clients that he picks online. All of his sex scenes are passive. He just lies down and waits for others to make a move, and take the steps necessary to access his body. He doesn’t complain or express a specific desire, he’s just…there. That’s scary and makes Simone as frustrated as he is sometimes, unsure of what she can do with his body.

That body is Hittman’s playground. Dickinson becomes the clay she kneads for transmitting Frankie’s submissiveness and fascination with the men he meets online, his wide-eyed wonder at them exploring his body, guiding him into a dark world he’s desperately trying to become part of. Hittman perfectly blocks Dickinson, going with the camera too deep into his face, making every blemish, every freckle visible. She shows his nudity without exploiting his body, always stopping at the moment when it would become too much, and she shoots him in all awkward angles, sometimes confining him to the farthest end of the frame as if he’s in a tight chamber that is slowly closing in on him.

Dickinson’s existence there in the movie, as all those people’s sexual experiment, being caressed, kissed, held, touched, and traced, fingers clutched, grabbed, and stroked him, reminds me of another actor who has never been afraid to show flimsiness on screen, and whose beauty and sensitivity were used as a pinnacle on which an entire movie was built, River Phoenix as Mike Waters in Gus Van Sant’s My Own Private Idaho.

Van Sant is one of the most prominent faces in the New Queer Cinema wave and among the most famous contributors to the queer gaze on the screen. Seeing Nicole Kidman or Uma Thurman –two of the sexiest, most sought-after stars of the 90s- through his lens was something else, his camera beautified them, glorified them, and hinted at their femininity but it wasn’t as fetishizing as how these two stunning women were seen through the lens of other more traditionally “heteronormative” filmmakers.

So when someone as beautifully fragile, as airy and transparent as River Phoenix stands in front of Van Sant’s camera, it’s obvious how the result is breathtakingly different than anything he’s been in before. As his name describes, Phoenix is an artist who self-combusts and turns to ashes by the end of each role, then reemerges, alive and vibrant for the next. Unfortunately, his real-life sad story showed how much that burning out ate him up from the inside, that by a very young age, there was nothing left in him, but that’s for another conversation. In My Own Private Idaho, Phoenix is a fragment, a tool in the hands of the director. He compounds his openness and presence by playing a narcoleptic who suffers constant blackouts –which might grimly allude to a past of sexual abuse- and gets lost inside his head a lot of times.

The unwilling sleepiness or the blackouts, the flashbacks here and there, Van Sant uses Mike’s frail form to capture a sensation, to illustrate male vulnerability. Long shots enhance his smallness in the middle of a vast, collapsing world. Close-ups and blocking shots enhance his exposure, allowing the camera to linger on his beautiful, delicate features, especially in scenes when he’s mid-blackout, curled in on himself, carried around, hugged, touched, or even watched in fascination or awe, by his clients or the love of his life, fellow hustler Scott (Keanu Reeves). Although the film is tricky, giving us his subjective POV at times, Van Sant objectifies Mike, twisting and bending his body to become a mattress for what others choose to do with it. 

While Hittman doesn’t get us inside Frankie’s thoughts in Beach Rats, Van Sant tries to show audiences the chaotic, jumbled mess that is Mike’s head. The camera cuts between extreme close-ups of parts of his face, then interjects with random nature scenes or a mythical mother figure, Van Sant gets us inside his head, maybe even his body while Hittman keeps us strictly outward, with a “body no soul” rule. While Van Sant’s hustler is more dreamy, and poetic, Hittman’s is realistic and confused, eyeing the world in wonder but never from a contemplative POV. We see the world through Frankie’s subjective lens, but we get inside Mikey, which is not always a fun place to be.

Movies like Beach Rats and My Own Private Idaho dig at unconventional male sexuality and how the discomfort arising from denying one’s truth or being haunted by the invisibility of it can lead to destructive repercussions for those young men. Mike is a less fortunate man than Frankie, but they are both sensual young men, exploited through harsh circumstances, poverty, and lack of proper guidance from an adult figure. They both grapple at whatever they can get from life, living small lives in small towns. Mike is a tumbleweed in the wind, with no roots, no origins, offering his body to strangers like a sacrificial monk. Frankie plays night games of roulette with strangers, seeking a truth he hides from everyone around him, compromising his safety and integrity, and even becoming a threat sometimes to those who seek pleasure from his youth. It’s a strange entry into the land of masculinity, deconstructed and awkwardly brought together like puzzle pieces from hell, only in the hands of acclaimed directors like Eliza Hittman and Gus Van Sant, passionate actors like the late River Phoenix and Harris Dickinson, this hell becomes a fun place to watch.

Movie Review: ‘The Promised Land’ Has Too Much To Balance


Director: Nikolaj Arcel
Writers: Nikolaj Arcel, Anders Thomas Jensen, Ida Jessen
Stars: Mads Mikkelsen, Amanda Collin, Gustav Lindh

Synopsis: The story of Ludvig Kahlen who pursued his lifelong dream: To make the heath bring him wealth and honor.


I suppose one doesn’t have to be an experienced dramaturg to observe that it can be difficult to shape the struggles of farmers hoping to achieve agricultural development into conventionally entertaining drama. When films attempt to delve deep into the minutiae of collectivized farming or vernalization, it inevitably brings forth memories of early Soviet cinema. Filmmakers as diverse as Sergei Eisenstein and Oleksandr Dovzhenko were once encouraged to make films that would help to promote agricultural policies that were being enacted by the government. In many cases, these filmmakers chose to deviate from the propaganda playbook and turn what could have been a superficial celebration of the Party Line into a thoughtful meditation on the moral responsibility that farmers have to preserve the beauty of the natural environment. In their way, these were harsh, morally fraught pictures that exhibited a touch of misanthropy in projecting a vision of the natural environment as a pure vessel that will inevitably be corrupted at the hands of greedy humans. As cinema began to progress beyond this form of propaganda picture, this peculiar micro-genre began to fade away, but its influence continues to linger on. 

Just look at Nikolaj Arcel’s The Promised Land (2023), which is far more conventional than the likes of Earth (1930) and The General Line (1929), in its form and content. In spite of all this, it still displays a similar interest in dramatizing the conflict between flawed, selfish human beings and their pledge to cultivate land on ethical terms. The script, which is loosely based on the story of real-life figure Ludvig Kahlen, opens in 1755 during the reign of King Frederick V of Denmark. Kahlen, portrayed by Mads Mikkelsen, is depicted as an ambitious army veteran who hopes to improve his social status by establishing a settlement on the barren Jutland moorland. The Royal Danish Court gives him permission to carry out his plans but, upon arriving in the region, he soon comes into conflict with Frederik de Schinkel (Simon Bennebjerg), a local nobleman who aims to prevent Kahlen from gaining influence over the local populace. Kahlen’s approach to cultivating the land initially fails to pay dividends but he begins to provide results when he takes on Romani travelers and former employees of de Schinkel as laborers. However, the rivalry between the two men quickly causes a breakdown in communication between Kahlen and members of the ruling class; placing him in the unenviable position of negotiating with his primary adversary. 

The film is chock-full of what could charitably be called ‘old-fashioned’ storytelling devices and crams a considerable number of subplots into its relatively brief running time. It is, I suppose, admirable that Nikolaj Arcel still has a desire to make the sort of earnest, unabashedly cheesy historical epics that have largely fallen out of favor in the past few decades. His filmmaking sensibilities remain firmly rooted in the 1990s, in ways that are both charming and irritating. On the one hand, he does have an eye for stunning vistas and a willingness to indulge in sentimentality. On the other hand, he has a tendency to put too much on his plate and that doesn’t leave him the time to properly flesh out all of the components of the narrative that the film flirts with exploring. You can see why he wanted to make a film that happened to be a romantic tragedy and a tender domestic drama and a handsomely mounted period piece but he doesn’t fully succeed in stringing these disparate segments of the film together. 

The Promised Land is arguably at its most interesting in its second half, when it threatens to wade into the somewhat murky debate over whether the ends justify the means when it comes to fortifying a recently formed community. Kahlen’s newly established settlement is strengthened when the government agrees to send fifty North German settlers to live and work on his land. They are shown to be hard-working and effective in legitimizing Kahlen’s settlement project but are also revealed to hold racist prejudices that put them at odds with the more progressive-minded Kahlen. It’s at this point that the film dips its toe into previously uncharted waters and brushes up against thorny questions that it has no real intention of grappling with. As this is a feel-good drama, Kahlen is never fully placed in conflict with the German settlers and doesn’t have to make a choice that would force him to compromise his values. It’s disappointing that Arcel chose to nip this under-explored plot development in the bud but it does hint at the fact that The Promised Land didn’t have to go down quite so smoothly. 

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘The Beekeeper’ is a Thrill Ride of Revenge


Director: David Ayer
Writer: Kurt Wimmer
Stars: Jason Statham, Emmy Raver-Lampman, Bobby Naderi

Synopsis: One man’s brutal campaign for vengeance takes on national stakes after he is revealed to be a former operative of a powerful and clandestine organization known as “Beekeepers”.


Jason Statham is an action genre legend. Not only is that evident by his ever-expanding suite of movies including The Expendables series, Lock, Stock And Two Smoking Barrels, The Transporter series, The Fast And The Furious series, and more, but he has somehow continuously improved his box office numbers year over year. Excluding sequel movies, The Beekeeper has an estimated $16.8 million opening weekend beating opening numbers from 2023’s Operation Fortune: Ruse De Guerre ($3.1 million) and 2021’s Wrath Of Man ($8.1 million). With all that being said, The Beekeeper stands on its own with a delightfully fun revenge tale that has surprisingly deep cuts toward socio-political issues plaguing the world. 

The Beekeeper starts with a brief but profound interaction between Adam Clay (Statham) and Eloise Parker (Phylicia Rashad). Clay has been renting a barn from Parker and living quietly as a beekeeper. The audience gets the sense that he views her as a mother figure as he remarks that “nobody has ever taken care of me before” after she invites him to her house for dinner. Immediately after, we see Parker fall victim to a phishing scam in a sequence that sets off the movie’s events. Not being tech-savvy, Parker hands her passwords to a data mining group that wipes her accounts, totaling over $2 million. Clay later explains that Parker was an educator who was a signatory for a children’s charity’s community bank account, and the guilt over being scammed leads her to end her life. Phylicia Rashad is captivating in this scene as she unwittingly talks to who she believes to be a good-natured IT specialist on the phone. She hesitates before completing the wire transfer that gives her password away, but her empathy for who she’s talking to, possibly losing their job because of their “errors” propels her to complete the transaction. Rashad is a living legend with almost as long of a career as Jason Statham has been alive. The entire interaction feels realistic as the scammers party while the phone is muted and exude empathy and kindness as they play their victim. 

As Clay comes into Parker’s house to have dinner with her, he discovers her body with a gun nearby. Almost simultaneously, he meets her daughter Verona (Emmy Raver-Lampman), an FBI agent hellbent on avenging her mother. She doesn’t realize, though, that her life has intersected with a Beekeeper. Yes, that is capitalized purposely as Clay is not just a beekeeper, but he’s a Beekeeper who happens also to be a beekeeper. We find out later that the Beekeepers are a classified program that operates outside of the law to maintain the hive of justice that the judicial system fumbles occasionally. This movie has some messaging to get across—stealing from the elderly is worse than stealing from children because they often keep their victimization to themselves or have nobody to care for them. Clay, however, cared about Eloise Parker and will avenge her death to the very top of the hive if he must.

The scenes that follow are various acts of violence that unfold in increasingly hilarious ways including burning the call center that called Parker down to the ground, the manager who spoke to Parker being embarrassed and killed alongside his murder-for-hire squad in Clay’s barn after they try to avenge their call center, and Clay not only killing a fellow Beekeeper after they’re commissioned to terminate him by the CIA, but also incapacitating an FBI SWAT team and taking out a militia of former Seal Team 6 and associated veterans called in by Wallace Westwyld (Jeremy Irons). Westwyld is an interesting character in this movie as he represents someone who tries to separate themselves from the direct action by hiding behind droves of cannon fodder. He mentions that he has enough money, but he also scoffs when asked whether money or power are more enticing to him. We never get his answer, but this reminds me of the mindset of some corporate executives and politicians who exhibit Machiavellianism. Speaking of, while Westwyld is the hand behind various waves of forces going against, Derek Danforth (Josh Hutcherson) is the CEO who funds and propagates the web of deception throughout his company Danforth Enterprises, and its subsidiaries that Clay has his sights on. I should take a moment to acknowledge that this movie has a fair amount of humor including a healthy amount of bee puns that somehow even made the only confirmed dad in the movie Agent Wiley (Bobby Naderi) roll his eyes. I, however, love dad jokes and loved the humor in this movie! This movie not only gives us Statham in a full beekeeping suit, provides an overabundance of bee puns and facts, and boasts evil frat bro Josh Hutcherson, but the audience is also rewarded with a twist I won’t spoil here. That twist, however, was so fun, and pretty much paid for my ticket to watch the movie a second time on its own. Without getting too much into the end of the movie and spoiling any specifics about the pain Clay inflicts on his targets, take these snapshots—one pickup truck minigun, four amputated fingers, and many, many bodies hitting the floor. 


The Beekeeper is a fun original action film that will make the audience writhe in their seats, but still want more. The action is delicious and the socio-political messaging is almost too real. Watching this movie, I found myself rooting for Jason Statham’s character a bit more than I typically do, as within the past couple of years, my grandmother was the victim of a similar scam. She had a strong support system and most of the damage was able to be reversed, but not everyone has that outcome—this is why we root for movie vigilantes who target the corrupt and defend the helpless. Not only does Statham do a great job throwing punches and keeping bees during this movie’s very action-packed runtime, but if you’re a fan of standard action films, this is a solid entry that will make it into my comfort action movie rotation once released. Of course, I can’t let that statement go by without a last-minute reminder to support physical media as it’s never a bad thing to have a beautiful movie collection sitting on a shelf.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘The Book of Clarence’ is No Miracle


Director: Jeymes Samuel
Writer: Jeymes Samuel
Stars: LaKeith Stanfield, Anna Diop, RJ Cyler

Synopsis: Struggling to find a better life, Clarence is captivated by the power of the rising Messiah and soon risks everything to carve a path to a divine existence.


A comedic anachronistic film can be excellent. We all get a kick out of poking fun at the past or seeing a silly character wedge themselves into great historical events. It puts the past into a different perspective or makes us understand we shouldn’t take something from so long ago so seriously. If The Book of Clarence could figure out what it is and if it leaned harder into the comedy of its situation, it could have been a joy to watch. The film just never quite gets there.

It’s got a funny premise, a cast with some comedy bonafides, but it feels flat. Even with a strange scene of Clarence (LaKeith Stanfield) and Elijah (RJ Cyler) floating through the air after getting high, the concept of how to visually portray an idea that isn’t a light bulb, or the strange and beautiful group dance scene at a party. Other than that, the whole film really takes itself seriously from the title cards that look like they come from a ’50s or ’60s biblical epic to the close ups of unfunny faces. Even the parts with clear jokes in them just don’t land. They sit in long takes. It’s hard to tell if it’s the product of Jeymes Samuel’s writing, directing, or the often overwrought music he produced for the film. It’s a confluence that doesn’t make for a cohesive vision.

It’s obvious that The Book of Clarence is borrowing and paying homage to other genres. From Shakespeare to biblical epics to Black struggle films like Boyz n the Hood or Dope, Samuel attempts to put them all together in order to say something, but his film doesn’t say anything. Especially in the third act, which nearly loses all attempts at humor for a maudlin ending that then tries to subvert itself at the very end. It’s probably easiest to blame Clarence himself, who has no personality.

He’s a hustler and an atheist. He loves his mother and despises his twin brother, the apostle Thomas, for walking out on them. Other than that, we know very little about him. He is whatever he needs to be at the moment he is in the film. In one scene he’s suddenly an extremely skilled fighter, taking on Barabbas (Omar Sy) in the gladiator arena, but in a scene  several scenes later he’s running scared of local crime lord Jedediah’s (Eric Kofi-Abrefa) henchmen. Even his smooth talk is just monotone and flat.

Even though the film doesn’t hit in every aspect, it is visually interesting. Samuel and cinematographer Rob Hardy create some great sequences. The fight scene in the gladiator arena is striking, but the opening scene is even more engaging. The Book of Clarence begins with a chariot race through the streets of Jerusalem. Clarence and his right hand man Elijah in one chariot, Mary Magdalene (Teyana Taylor), yes, that Mary Magdalene, in the other. They dodge merchants and pedestrians as well as street urchins trying to trip them up. It’s a lot of fun and exciting to boot. It also begins the incredible sub-subplot of the film. Without going into too much detail because it may affect the way the people see this third act surprise, but just to say, watch the beggar from the beginning of the race throughout the film, it’s a stroke of genius where his story ends up.

The Book of Clarence is going to be someone’s exact jam. They will love it from beginning to end. For the rest of us, it’s just kind of O.K. Unfortunately, Life of Brian it is not, so if you’re looking for that kind of a film, it’s best to avoid this one. The funny parts are few and far between and the message is lost somewhere around the half hour mark. The third act drags and has a near complete tonal shift, which it never really earns. It was a valiant effort toward a genre mashup that never finds the right balance.

Grade: C

List: Shadan Larki’s Top Ten of 2023

When you watch hundreds of films a year, things inevitably blur together. What stands out about each title I chose is how vividly memorable they are. Whether it was a scene that continues to replay in my mind, a performance I’m still finding nuances in, the theatrical experience, or simply how the film made me feel, I constructed my favorites based on the movies I just can’t stop thinking about. Or talking about. Or recommending.

Some years, I struggle to fill out a list like this. But 2023 spoiled me rotten with choices. The order of this list of favorites has changed quite a bit, as have my sentiments about these films. Still, I know these are titles I’ll look back on in five or ten years with exceptional fondness. 
I’d be remiss not to include a few honorable mentions: Still: A Michael J Fox Movie— My favorite documentary of the year, an honest and hopeful portrait of an icon. Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour— This glitter-filled celebration of Taylor Swift had me dancing, singing, and swinging my friendship bracelet-arms all through my local theater. The most fun I’ve had at the movies all year. Joy Ride—No movie made me laugh harder than this outrageously funny comedy about a girls’ trip gone array. Elemental— This Pixar animated movie about water and fire falling for each other is so sweetly charming. Killers of the Flower Moon— Don’t let the three-and-a-half-hour runtime intimidate you. Martin Scorsese’s epic about a series of murders in the Osage nation is one of his very best. Lily Gladstone’s revelatory performance makes this a must-see.

10. Saltburn

Unlike Origin and Oppenheimer, Saltburn is very much a movie I would hesitate to recommend. It’s bizarre and, honestly, kind of gross. But I loved nearly every minute of it. Oscar-winner Emerald Fennell’s sophomore effort centers on Barry Keoghan, a college student who becomes enamored with a classmate (Jacob Elordi) and spends the summer with his new friend’s exorbitantly wealthy, morally corrupt, eccentric family. Think of Saltburn as a modern, twisted take on The Great Gatsby. (The lush party sequences would make Mr. Gatsby Emerald with jealousy). Every twist is crazier than the last, and Rosamund Pike steals the film with a delicious performance. Sure, Saltburn isn’t going to leave you feeling warm and fuzzy, but sometimes, I prefer to feel horrified and giggling to avoid my own discomfort. Buckle up for some fun.

9. Oppenheimer

After being bitterly disappointed by both Dunkirk and Tenet, I went into the second half of my Barbenheimer double-feature somewhat begrudgingly. While I do think the thin writing and character development are worthy of criticism, Christopher Nolan’s Oppenheimer is undeniably an otherwise finely crafted cinematic achievement with visuals that will, no pun intended, blow you away. But, the main reason I hold Oppenheimer in such high esteem and don’t hesitate to recommend it is Cillian Murphy’s enigmatic performance as the father of the atomic bomb. I have adored Murphy’s work for nearly 20 years. He is one of our finest character actors, and he has never been better, commanding nearly every frame of this three-hour drama. Yes, the movie boasts an absolutely stacked cast of A-listers, but the film suffers when Murphy is not on screen. He draws you in and keeps you invested, and keeps you guessing. Oppenheimer is ultimately a cautionary tale about ego, politics, and power, a true, modern epic.

8. American Fiction

The third directorial debut on my list, American Fiction introduced us to the film-making prowess of Cord Jefferson in a strikingly funny satire about the commodification of marginalized voices. Jeffrey Wright gives a career-defining performance as a long-overlooked author who finally gets the praise he’s been looking for. But only after conceiving of a book that leans into every Black stereotype he can think up during a drink-fueled late-night writing binge. Sterling K. Brown co-stars as Wright’s wayward brother in one of the year’s best ensemble casts.

7. Monster

Japanese master Hirokazu Kore-eda has long been one of my “I’ll see anything they make filmmakers.” And Monster might be my very favorite work of his to date. An accusation of bullying collides with the worlds of the mother, the teacher, and the communities involved. As always, Kore-eda fills in moral complexities with delicate shades of grey, each stroke adding nuance and complexity to a story and characters we think we have figured out. Then Monster switches to the perspective of the young boys involved in the incident and transforms into something else entirely, even more richly told than the drama that came before. Simply beautiful.

6. Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret

A wonderfully sweet adaptation of Judy Blume’s classic novel, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret delves into girlhood—with its epic firsts, discoveries, and lingering magic of childhood wonder—and the horrors of puberty and impending teenage angst. Rachel McAdams gives one of the best performances of the year and her career as a mother doing her best to support her daughter (Abby Ryder Fortson) while making mistakes and finding her own way. I loved how much empathy Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margarethad to offer all of its characters. I so desperately wish this movie was available to me as a lost 12-year-old. But, even as a somewhat put-together twenty-something, Margaret still had a lot to teach me, and for that, I am grateful.

5. Past Lives

Past Lives snuck up on me. The more time passed, the higher it climbed on my favorites list. I just can’t get this movie out of my head. Nora’s (Greta Lee) life in Toronto becomes unsettled when she reconnects with a childhood friend from South Korea (Teo Yoo). John Magaro is excellent as Nora’s sweet, unassuming husband. This trio of actors adds so much depth and warmth to Celine Song’s already rich directorial debut. As the daughter of immigrants, this story of fractured identities, dual cultures, and what-ifs deeply resonated with me. But there’s so much to dig into and relate to, regardless of your background. Past Lives is quietly devastating. 

4. Poor Things

Given that Frankenstein ismy favorite book of all time, it’s no surprise that I ended up loving a movie about an eccentric scientist (Willem Dafoe) who reanimates a corpse (Emma Stone). In keeping with his delightfully weird sensibility, Yorgos Lanthimos has given us a bold cinematic feast of color, sex, and epic costumes. Stone is fabulous as a woman (re)discovering her zest for life, and Mark Ruffalo is a great, wickedly charming villain.

3. A Thousand and One

Teyana Taylor is magnetic as a young mother trying to do what is best for herself and her son against the tide of an increasingly gentrified New York City, many broken systems, and little support. A.V. Rockwell delivers a confident directorial debut; her script is packed with ideas about generational trauma, race, love, and family. A Thousand and One establishes Rockwell as a major film-making talent and serves as a loving ode to the quiet, fierce strength and loyalty of Black women.

2. Anatomy of a Fall

What stands out the most to me about my experience watching Anatomy of a Fall is how deeply engrossed I was, sitting at the edge of my seat, gripping the armrest, afraid to move, afraid to blink for fear that I’d miss a line of dialogue or a micro-expression that would give away a clue to the mystery. ‎Sandra Hüller gives the performance of the year as an author accused of murdering her husband, with much of the trial hinging on the testimony of her young, visually impaired son (Milo Machado Graner). Writer and director Justine Triet brilliantly explores the uncomfortable truths of marriage, motherhood, and sexuality in this riveting drama that you won’t soon forget.

1. Origin

I promised myself I’d only use the word “masterpiece” once throughout this piece, and it’s a word befitting of Origin, Ava DuVernay’s sweeping reimaging of Isabel Wilkerson’s best-seller, “Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents.” I was awe-struck by how DuVernay moves through time to recontextualize our shared history in a deeply empathetic drama. Origin opened my eyes to a new way of storytelling, and to add to that, a film has not so profoundly moved me in a very long time. A cinematic magic trick that I encourage you all to see immediately. 

Movie Review: ‘Mean Girls’ is a Shadow of the Original


Directors: Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr
Writer: Tina Fey
Stars: Angourie Rice, Renée Rapp, Jon Hamm

Synopsis: Cady Heron is a hit with the Plastics, an A-list girl clique at her new school when she makes the mistake of falling for Aaron Samuels, the ex-boyfriend of alpha Plastic Regina George.


Somewhere in between Mark Waters’ 2004 film scripted by Tina Fey there was a slew of high school comedies. High school comedies are a genre unto themselves. Musical high school comedies possibly reached peak popularity with Ryan Murphy’s television show Glee. In 2024, audiences are given the filmed version of the musical (book written by Tina Fey) and it is basically the Glee-ification of Mean Girls

The baseline to any successful filmed musical has one primary element to consider; are any of the songs memorable? If the answer is no, then the movie hasn’t done its job. While the music written by Jeff Richmond and Nell Benjamin might be a great live experience, it doesn’t do much as it translates on screen, but it also doesn’t fail dismally. Directors Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr. have assembled a mostly talented cast (the standouts being Auliʻi Cravalho, Jaquel Spivey, Renée Rapp, and whatever screen time is given to Avantika), but they’ve made the film so toothless it doesn’t capture what made Mean Girls 2004 so imminently quotable and relatable.

For anyone unfamiliar with the story, it goes as follows. Cady Heron (Angourie Rice) has lived in Kenya most of her life with her academic mother (Jenna Fischer). She was home-schooled in Kenya, and dreams of a new world where she can meet people her own age. That “dream” comes true when Mrs. Heron and Cady relocate to Chicago and Cady is enrolled in North Shore High School. Finding high school more impossible to negotiate than the open plains filled with predators and prey in Kenya, Cady soon finds out that cliques exist, and they are dangerous.

In the musical, the film is opened and closed by “narrators” Janis ‘Imi’ike (Auliʻi Cravalho, also known as the voice of Moana) and Damian Hubbard (Jaquel Spivey), two openly queer outsider students. Their number “A Cautionary Tale” is possibly one of the wittiest pieces of original music. On Cady’s first day they notice that she has no idea how to fit in anywhere and ends up eating lunch in a bathroom stall. They take her under their wing and tell her to avoid, at all costs, The Plastics. Especially “Queen Bee” Regina George (Rapp). The remaining two Plastics are the emotionally fragile but attention seeking Gretchen Wieners (Bebe Woods) and dumb as a box of hair Karen Shetty (Avantika).

Somehow, Cady attracts the attention of Regina and is given the opportunity to sit with The Plastics on a probationary period. Janis, nursing a long-standing wound about how her former friend Regina treated her, sees this as an opportunity for Cady to act as a double-agent and help destroy her nemesis and the school’s “Apex Predator.” Cady is torn because she thinks Regina and The Plastics might not be so bad after all, until she falls for Aaron Samuels (Christopher Briney) and Regina “steals” him from her. Thus, Cady becomes, over time, the person planning Regina’s downfall and becoming her replacement.

Inevitably Mean Girls 2024 is going to be saddled with comparisons to the original film, especially as a lot of dialogue is recycled from it. Tina Fey and Tim Meadows reprise their original roles from the first film. Principal Duvall is still wearing a cast on his arm. Ms. Norbury is still trying to get students to engage with advanced calculus. They do adequate work in a film they are well aware is sanitized to the point of being toothless; there is a line when rapper and mathlete Kevin Ganatra (Mahi Alam) does his Beastie Boys x whatever performance at the school talent contest that makes it clear that everything needs to stay PG-13.

While the film is more openly queer and representative of high school in the 2020s (or 2017 when the musical was first performed) it loses the essential message of the first film by erasing most of the language that Fey was using to get her point across about the damage young female identifying students to others. Without the words “slut” and “whore” the basic premise is that if young women use these words to describe other young women it makes it okay for guys to also.

The thesis of Fey’s original adaptation becomes so watered down that it barely registers. Mean girls are supposed to be mean. They are supposed to be harmful. Renée Rapp looks like she could physically snap anyone in two, but her mind games are played down. Her dissatisfaction with her Plastic Mom (Busy Phillips) is the excuse given for her behaviour. Gone is Rachel McAdams’ pure vindictiveness and anger.

Unfortunately, the weakest link is Angourie Rice as Cady. Because the audience is supposed to follow her obsessional journey from nervous and pleasant outsider to Plastic through song and dance instead of written character development it just seems like a too quick pivot. Angourie is a talented performer and has managed to carve out quite a career for herself in America, but Cady is a role ill-suited to her. 

By far, the best characters are Janis and Damian; with Jaquel Spivey outpacing his filmic counterpart Daniel Franzese. Damian singing the iCarly theme song en français at the Christmas Concert better than Regina George landing with a thud after the ‘Rockin’ Around the Pole’ number. And although Janis ‘Imi’ike might lack a little of the sustained rage of Janis (Sarkis)Ian (Lizzie Caplan) it’s her song “I’d Rather Be Me” which is the best summation of the musical’s themes.

It is possible to hold the opposing views that a film is both entertaining and disappointing. Mean Girls 2024 is a prime example of the phenomenon. It is entertaining. Most of the jokes still land and some of the new ones aren’t bad. The addition of “internet virality” is apropos to the contemporary period. Hashtag #coolmom (like and follow) who is living through her daughter. The Burn Book still exists. The losers still get in the car to go shopping. You can’t sit with us, and hair is so big because it’s filled with secrets and there is that one person who still “Doesn’t even go here.” There are some meta-textual flourishes and of the moment cameos (and one that will delight fans of the original film).

Gretchen Wieners is played so sympathetically that instead of just going to form another clique she can rule over she has the awakening that maybe she’s actually deserving of more. Character growth is what the original film was about, but Gretchen was the example of a character who didn’t grow or change. 


So, we circle back to the question, is Mean Girls 2024 successful? The answer is a tepid yes and no. There is some excellent choreography and staging, but it isn’t as impressive as one would hope for a big screen adventure. Does it do much more than remind us how the original film spoke to a generation of people? It really doesn’t. Mean Girls 2024 can’t be called a bad film per se, because that’s underestimating the parts that are polished and fun. But if we consider Senior Year a Netflix original basically trod the same path in 2022 (and examined the same themes of internet popularity, teen competition, etc.), Mean Girls 2024 doesn’t do a lot to add to the ongoing conversation about bullying, personal responsibility and authenticity. It’s fine – but it’s not cheesy fries good and it’s not “basically feminism.”

Grade: B-

List: Brian Susbielle’s Top Ten of 2023

Another wonderful year of cinema has been wrapped up with a bow on it and we are in the middle of Oscar season. 2023 was a great year where my Top 10 was changing films and rankings the past week prior to submitting this piece. That’s why I have my three films which were just outside-looking-in stacked as my 11th film listed below because I couldn’t really decide which film made the cut. It really was a measurement of decimals when I broke down my own grades. Alas, here I have my Top 10 films of 2023.

Honorable Mentions: Beyond Utopia, The Holdovers, The Iron Claw

10. Theater Camp

This is a laugh-a-minute mockumentary with every scene and was one of the big surprises for me and, even for someone who is not big into Broadway musicals, is still absolutely irresistible. Ben Platt, Molly Gordon, Noah Galvin, Jimmy Tatro, and Ayo Edebiri lead an ensemble of musical lovers and wannabe legends who love teaching theater kids but can’t get out of their own egoistical comedy of manners. 

9. Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning, Part I

The unfortunate victim of being released right before “Barbenheimer ” came out, the next chapter of Ethan Hunt’s missions is another major step forward for Tom Cruise and writer/director Christopher McQuarrie. In what is supposed to be the penultimate film before the end of the franchise, it once again takes grandiose action sequences to the limit and never mails it in. Esai Morales is underrated as the film’s antagonist with a subtle mood in his villainous plans that will perfectly carry over to the final film as the Cruise/McQuarrie pairing does not relent in pushing the suspense to its far edges.  

8. Air

Ben Affleck’s return to the director’s chair is nothing but swish (terrible pun) on this true story of the Air Jordan and Nike’s launch to the top. Affleck’s BFF Matt Damon dunks in as Sonny Vaccaro, the lead of strong performances across the board with Jason Bateman, Chris Tucker, Affleck, and Viola Davis. It is a witty, hilarious underdog story of the American Dream through basketball and the birth of a new financial empire that remains functioning today.  

7. Still: A Michael J. Fox Movie 

This moving documentary on the Back To The Future star goes deep with his life, career, and battle with Parkinson’s Disease. It is raw and Fox doesn’t sugarcoat anything he has dealt with and still is with the continuing disintegration of his body. Certainly, this is a piece of truth telling that is deeply profound and carries a burden of emotion throughout. 

6. American Fiction

Newcomer Cord Jefferson made his directorialdebut with this dynamite satire on race and literature with Jeffrey Wright as frustrated writer Monk Ellison who takes it out on the White-controlled establishment, only to come out with a surprising hit. Between personal turmoil and his conflict over his surprising success at an artistic cost, Monk must be able to balance truth and fiction. It’s a brilliant dramedy which won at TIFF and has a stellar cast including Tracee Ellis Ross, Sterling K. Brown, and Issa Rae.

5. Killers Of The Flower Moon

Martin Scorsese can make his movies as long as he wants because he has the skill to tell a story as gripping as this true crime saga in Osage County. Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert DeNiro may be the big names up front, but the film is about Lily Gladstone and carrying the burden of emotions of family members dying out as the strength of greed gets stronger. It’s an extraordinary Western about a living injustice and the start of modern law enforcement accompanied by the late Robbie Robertson’s country-infused score. 

4. The Killer

David Fincher goes back to his dark style, collaborating again with Se7en writer Andrew Kevin Walker on this highly entertaining piece of a hitman’s routine in going after their kill. Michael Fassbender gives his best performance since 12 Years A Slave as the anonymous gunman who also loves The Smiths and is methodical in his ways. Every beat is meaningful in his work and his cold-bloodedness is both shocking and timely comic as Fincher travels city to city in this tale of revenge by perfect execution.

3. Oppenheimer 

Christoper Nolan went and made his first biopic that lived up to the hype and then some about the life and career of J. Robert Oppenheimer, the father of the atomic bomb. Dissecting the book American Prometheus, three storylines of a young Oppenheimer and his work, the infamous security clearance hearing, and the man who took down Oppenheimer are completely in sync intercutting each other and building up the climaxes of all three lanes. The extraordinary ensemble of Cillian Murphy, Robert Downey, Jr, Matt Damon, Emily Blunt, Florence Pugh, and Josh Hartnett, among others carry this consequential piece of history that changed the course of history. 

2. The Zone of Interest

Johnathan Glazer had us wait a decade before he returned to the screen with this chilling portrait of life outside of Auschwitz with no worry about the horrors taking place inside of it. Christian Fridel is Rudolf Hoss, the commandant, and Sandra Huller, having a year also with Anatomy Of A Fall, is Oscar-worthy here as his wife, who is devoted to maintaining their family life besides the camp. The banality of evil, as written by Hannah Arendt, is seeded in this lifestyle of a man just doing his job with no concern and his wife who wants to maintain a high level of respect. The surrounding sounds, Lukasz Zal’s haunting cinematography, and Mica Levi’s goosebump-inducing soundtrack add onto Glazer’s mundane story of how evil and its apathy shows its ugly side.

1. Poor Things

Director Yorgos Lanthimos and writer Tony McNamara reunite with Emma Stone to make an even raunchier film than The Favouriteand take this surrealist story into the stratosphere. Alastair Gray’s famous novel follows a reprogramed human who embarks on self-discovery, independence, and sexual gratification. It’s a concept not many could pull for a movie, but Lanthimos brings back his fish-eye lens and gravitas for the unusual thanks to sensational performances by Mark Ruffalo, Willem Dafoe, and Ramy Youssef who watch Bella Baxter grow up in front of them, but not like a baby. It is eye-popping, colorful, and consistently hilarious, throwing up all shapes and sizes to satisfy viewers’ delights, not wasting a single moment in its 141 minute runtime. 

Follow me on Twitter: @bsusbielles (Cine-A-Man)

Sundance 2024: What To Watch For

The new year has begun and that means the Sundance Film Festival is about to go into full swing. It’s that time where independent movies make their shining debut for many new filmmakers, as well as bringing new debuts from A-list directors who dip back into the indie world. From here, there’s usually that one film from the festival that carries itself into the Oscar conversation (Winter’s Bone, Minari), or go all the way and win Best Picture (CODA). But from the start, Robert Redford’s desire was to show off more talent to the masses. Here are a few of those films coming out of Sundance this year. 

A Real Pain – Directed By Jesse Eisenberg

Two cousins (Eisenberg and Kieran Culkin) travel to Poland to honor their deceased grandmother. Both have different personalities and they will clash along the trip when their family history unearths secrets. This comedy-drama is Eisenberg’s second film after When You Finish Saving The World, also a Sundance release, and is grounded in giving a human story on family bonding through uncomfortable moments. 

DEVO – Directed By Chris Smith

This new music documentary from the director of Jim & Andy: The Great Beyond and Sr. tells the story of a radical band who were unlike any other college-based band. From Kent State, the “de-evolution” of music consisted of experimental music, performance art, and social commentary that has endured for decades. The documentary goes beyond their biggest song, “Whip It,” but shows how far they push their own spectacle to attract a loyal following. It’s going to be one freakishly fun ride through history. 

Frida – Directed By Carla Gutierrez

Same title about the same person, but it isn’t another biopic. It is a documentary about the legendary Mexican painter Frida Kahlo told in her own words from archive interviews put together. Made in animation, Gutierrez, who directed the documentary RBG, has an innovative portrait of a unique artist whose work was not internationally renowned until after her death and is arguably of greater status than of her husband, Diego Rivera. 

Hit Man – Directed By Richard Linklater

It debuted last year at the Venice Film Festival, but Netflix bought it up for release this year and is part of the Spotlight release. Linklater (Boyhood) wrote the script with his star, Glen Powell, a comedy about a college professor who takes up a role as an undercover hitman who suddenly has to help a woman in serious trouble. It’s that dark humor with a Texas twist that Linklater has a grasp of and, using a true story as its basis, is charming and entertaining. 

Rob Peace – Directed By Chiwetel Ejiofor

Making his second film after The Boy Who Harnessed the Wind, Ejiofor also wrote this true-story drama about a young man who lives a double life. Coming from the roughest part of Newark, New Jersey, Rob Peace (Jay Will) is a biochemistry student at Yale while also making money as a drug dealer to help out his impoverished mother (Mary J. Blige) while his father (Ejiofor) is in prison. This split in his personal life leads Peace down a dangerous road and to a place beyond saving.

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

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List: Joey Gentile’s Top Ten of 2023

2023, what a year it’s been. So much learned, so much loss, so much laughter, so much pain, so much overhyped (ahem Barbie) and yet a top ten list is one of the easiest things I can do from this last year, so here ya go! 

10. Totally Killer

Blumhouse movies are misses way more than hits and, surprisingly, this one is a hit. Not only is it really damn funny, but for a premise we have seen multiple times before (time travel) it blends a nice amount of humor with fun horror. Very rare win for the folks at Blumhouse with this one.

9. Air 

I hate sports, I hate sports with every ounce of my being and yet sports is on the back end of this movie about sports and the ultimate sports shoe. A movie that not only feels fresh and original but it hosts (in my humble opinion) Viola Davis’ best work on camera so far. 

8. No Hard Feelings

Jennifer Lawrence is a mega star, a mega star who once was over saturated for a solid 4 year run in the 2010s, but she is back with one of her best performances since her breakout in Winter’s Bone. An original comedy that has a heart, and plays even better on a rewatch. 

7. All of Us Strangers

I like men, I like sex with men, I like stories of men who have sex with men and I like stories of men who have sex with men and have their heart broken and mended by the power of love. A wonderful tear jerker of a movie. 

6. Maestro

I loved this movie, it’s a passion project that is beautifully shot and you can feel the love that Bradley Cooper brought to this project. It’s a nice biopic without “feeling” biopicky. 

5. Anatomy of a Fall

Not since 2016’s Elle with Isabelle Huppert have I adored a French movie so much. This is an edge of your seat court case drama with a stellar duo of performances from Sandra Hüller and Milo Machado-Graner, both of whom deserve to win the Academy Award for Actress and Supporting Actor this year. 

4. Bottoms

A really damn funny and over dramatic comedy from the team that brought us Shiva Baby. This movie takes you down roads you never see coming and at a beautifully paced 93 minutes is a fun breeze of a watch. 

3. Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves

As someone who went into this with zero expectations and with no knowledge of the game, this movie was not only the biggest surprise for me this past year but truly is a lot of fun as it balances comedy and fantasy action really really well. 

2. Saltburn

A delicious, dirty, and Silkwood-shower inducing movie. A big step up and redeemer from Emerald Fennell and her first movie from 2020, Promising Young Woman. This movie is so much fun and I’m so happy of the life it has found with the streaming platform this year. 

1. Oppenheimer

Seeing this movie three times in a theater this year was a highlight each time. It’s like a full body orgasm that continues to do its job post leg shaking. Christopher Nolan’s best film yet, from the score, to the cinematography, to the acting. It’s truly the best film of 2023. 

Interview: Daniel Brühl

Daniel Brühl discusses rivalries, rally cars, and motor racing for Race for Glory: Audi vs. Lancia also starring Riccardo Scamarcio.

Actor Daniel Brühl gets into gear for a different side of racing in Stefano Mordini’s Race for Glory: Audi vs. Lancia. Here he plays German race car engineer Roland Gumpert as Audi battles it out with the Italian manufacturer Lancia during the 1983 World Rally Championship.

Here, Nadine Whitney interviews Brühl

How much do you know about cars and racing now? It must be quite a lot after also starring as Niki Lauda in Ron Howard’s Rush.

Well, I do know a bit but also I don’t. I’ve always been interested in cars but mainly old cars. I still have one, an old Peugeot that never works. Racing is something I was fascinated by, but I wasn’t a real buff. I was a bit more interested in Formula One. My brother was always a huge fan and he taught me a lot when I was growing up. The Rally Touring side of the sport was something my Spanish side of the family enjoyed. I would sit with my uncle and cousins when I was a child and remember being thrilled as I saw these cars flying through villages and towns. People were standing so close to it and I was thinking, “This is so dangerous, this is weird.” Yet, it was fascinating.

As an actor I did not look for existing in any particular genre and I didn’t see myself playing a figure in the motor sports world. When I got the script for Rush it was a no brainer – it was so wonderfully written. It was a Mozart vs. Salieri competition between two drivers. I loved every minute working on that film. So, my first instinct when I was given the script for Race for Glory was to say no. I said to Riccardo Scamarcio (who plays Cesare Fiorio of Lancia) “No, I don’t want to do another race film.”

Because we are friends and we have been for a long time we wanted to work together again. Riccardo was really persistent, and you might have noticed in the film how insistent the Italians can be! Riccardo said, “Don’t worry, it’s a side part – you’re not playing a driver.” He said that “All the fun we make of each other personally with him being an Italian and me being a German we can bring that to another level in the film.”

So, I had another look at the script, and I loved it right away. It really is a different world to Formula One, Rally is a completely different sport. So when we shot Race for Glory I didn’t even think of Rush

I’m very impressed with what everyone did because with sports movies it’s always very important to translate the thrill of it cinematically on the screen. It’s important that people don’t think “Watching a real race is more exciting than watching that film.”

Everyone accomplished that translation. And there was a great feel for the 1980s. The audience is inside the 1980s. The film is visually stunning, and the dynamic of the races is amazing. You can tell they had real rally drivers. They pushed everything to the limits. It was safe, but you can see in the film that there were professionals behind the wheels. 

Tonally, the texture, the soundtrack, the colours, the costumes – everything is authentic. It’s just a lot of fun to watch!

Race for Glory: Audi vs. Lancia also known as Play 2 Win is in select cinemas and PVOD.

Movie Review: ‘Self Reliance’ is a Frenetic Story of Healing


Director: Jake Johnson
Writer: Jake Johnson
Stars: Jake Johnson, Andy Samberg, Anna Kendrick

Synopsis: Given the opportunity to participate in a life or death reality game show, one man discovers there’s a lot to live for.


Jake Johnson’s directorial debut begins with a quote from Ralph Waldo Emerson’s famous essay ‘Self Reliance’ – a piece penned about individualism in 1840. The basic gist is that a man needs to get up and do things and stop living in conformity and the past. For Johnson’s character, Thomas Walcott; a man reaching middle age with a seemingly pointless job, mourning a relationship that ended years ago, and living with his Mom the only thing he can rely on is that all his days will be essentially the same ad infinitum.

Every day he wakes up at the same time, goes to work, and ponders about knocking on the door of his now married ex-girlfriend Theresa (Natalie Mendoza) to finally find out why she broke up with him after twenty-three years. If Tommy had any life aspirations, they long ago died on the vine due to some unresolved issues leaving him in a state of near permanent personal entropy.

Enter “Andy Samberg” (Andy Samberg) in a limousine who approaches Tommy and asks him if he wants to participate in a “dark web” reality show. Tommy doesn’t really know what’s going on, but at least something is. Before he knows it he is in a warehouse with two bizarre Greenlandic men and agreeing to participate in a game where he agrees to be hunted. The loophole is that the hunters (who can be anyone or anywhere) can’t attack if he’s within hand’s distance of another person. Survive thirty days and win a million.

When he goes home to announce this to his family with a, “You’ll never believe what happened to me today,” the natural answer is they don’t. Why, asks his mother (Nancy Lenehan), would ‘Sandy Amberg’ want to have anything to do with him? His sisters (played wonderfully by Mary Holland and Emily Hampshire) alternate between amused and irritated with Tommy’s antics. His brother-in-law, Malcolm (Daryl J. Johnson) tries to go with the flow. Everyone is concerned he might be having a mental breakdown – and the film hints he possibly is. None of them want to be his shadow person (for good reason as Malcolm will discover) so Tommy has to look elsewhere.

Tommy finds an unhoused guy he calls “James” (Biff Wiff) and moves him into his mother’s house. From there, James and Tommy become allies in the increasing absurdity of Tommy’s life. He tries to find other ‘players’ and is contacted by Maddy (Anna Kendrick), a woman living with her mother and running a quirky Etsy store selling… well… whatever quirky Etsy stores sell. Maddy and Tommy agree after some negotiation to be each other’s buddies in the game; and for the first time in a long time Tommy begins to make deep connections with other people while dodging assassins dressed as Michael Jackson, Mario, and Ellen DeGeneres. Oh, and there are camera ninjas recording everything.

Johnson is balancing a lot of spinning plates with Self Reliance. It’s part absurdist comedy, part romance, part sincere look into loneliness and the social atomization of contemporary life, and part action film. So many genres shouldn’t work together – and for the most part they do until they don’t. Johnson and Kendrick are both charming actors and they have a natural rapport (this isn’t the first time they’ve worked together – they were also in Drinking Buddies). Their budding romance is one of the highlights of the film. Two people who are disconnected from life coming together for a grand, albeit potentially deadly adventure and “fucking living” because it could be their last day on Earth. 

Just as important is Tommy’s relationship with the near unflappable James and his descent into James’ reality of living precariously without guaranteed comfort, meals, clothing, or housing. Tommy chose to live in the game for thirty days – James, through whatever circumstances, lives an imperilled existence every day.

There are some inventive twists and turns and brilliant cameos from people such as Wayne Brady, GaTa, and Christopher Lloyd as Tommy’s absent father who walked out on his family with seemingly no regret. 

The pop culture references are terrific (and specific), and Johnson really puts everything he has into his performance as the internally wounded and very much externally wounded Tommy. There is a superb scene when he finally knocks on Theresa’s door and she tells him that she did tell him almost every day why they broke up, he just didn’t listen. He didn’t want to do anything, he didn’t want to change his routine, and he didn’t want to take chances. 

Self Reliance is a frenetic story of healing. Tommy has to put his life and sanity on the line to finally “Win the game.” The film is a little overcrowded in places and when it reaches the third act the audience has already understood what the film is saying about taking risks and avoiding becoming trapped in complacency. It might also seem to be a little on the nose to have a middle-aged-guy coming-of-age story – but permanent adolescence isn’t as uncommon in society as people would like to believe. We do live saturated by nostalgia and a sense that somehow things were better when life was easier when we were young. Self Reliance actively resists and parodies that notion.

A good companion piece to Self Reliance is Mel Eslyn’s Biosphere (two guys at the end of the world arguing about Mario Kart). It is also fascinating to draw the Venn diagram of Jake Johnson performances which lead to some of his best in Safety Not Guaranteed with Mark Duplass. Self Reliance might not entirely work while it’s running at speed and occasionally stopping to catch its breath at some of its lesser moments. But as a first feature it is gleefully silly and entirely sincere. There is much more to love in Self Reliance than there is to criticize. Surely, everyone these days is also afraid of Ellen DeGeneres?

Grade: B

List: Jaylan Salah’s Top 10 Performances of 2023

It’s the best of times, it’s the worst of times. But for movies, last year was superb. We got a blend of genres, a mesh of great performances, and some astounding surprises. I thoroughly enjoyed 2023 as a movie lover, and there were a lot of wonderful cinematic moments for me. The Barbienheimer phenomenon restored my faith in cinema, and there were a lot of surprise hits by the end of the year. There were many films directed by women, hopefully, many more this year, and various African Americans, Asians, and Native Americans in the lead roles. A great performance is a great performance, and in 2023, we had plenty.

Honorable mentions include Charles Melton in May December, Sandra Hüller in Anatomy of a Fall and The Zone of Interest, Taraji P. Henson, and Danielle Brooks in The Color Purple.

10. Barry Keoghan in Saltburn

I know, I know. Some people view Saltburn as the worst thing that happened to cinema, others are enjoying it in a non-serious way. The actors might have taken the promotional and press tours a bit too overtly, or in an unabashed way almost like fanbaiting with their hotness and sex appeal. These are two remarkable men in one of the most sexually charged films of the year 2023 (uhm, Passages, too?). Despite Saltburn heightening the feelings with Jacob Elordi –a star prepped to be the next Hollywood hotshot of the next era- as the iconic dreamboat, Barry Keoghan steals the scenes. Keoghan plays a doe-eyed sociopath, obsessed, dark, and aloof, with such grounded insanity that it brings to mind his earlier roles in The Green Knight and The Killing of a Sacred Deer.

9. Lily Gladstone in Killers of the Flower Moon

There’s acting and there’s existing in a realm as a performer. Lily Gladstone exists in Killers of the Flower Moon as Mollie Burkhart, she downplays the act, she breathes through the character, patiently waits, exerts power, and navigates a hostile world that sneakily and coyly tries to rob her of power, agency, and ownership. Her performance as a woman defies categorization, steering away from Hollywood Queen Bees wearing prosthetic noses or blonde beauties playing sacrificial mothers, size zero women pretending to be housewives tired of a redundant life with redundant husbands, or the cherry on top of a gangster-heavy film. Mollie is wary of the racism, but she’s also comfortable in the power she exerts over a White man she deems beneath her, even if he –sadly- uses that particular flaw in character to fuel his sinister plan of destroying her.

8. Paul Mescal in All of Us Strangers

There’s something about Mescal in every role he plays. He’s not the most handsome of the current flood of young Hollywood actors on the scene; Chalamet, Dickinson, Elordi, Keoghan, Gatwa, etc. But there’s a degree of truth to his acting that might not be present in most of his peers. In All of Us Strangers, Mescal plays a seductive object of affection for Adam, the main protagonist. While basking in the glory of such a desirable character, he delivers a melancholy performance, with subtlety and dignity, engulfed by the film’s haunting atmosphere. What Paul Mescal gets served, he delivers. He might miss in one instance or another, but when on call, he transcends expectations and draws great sympathy from the audience.

7. Emma Stone in Poor Things

There are not a lot of times where both actor and audience are having fun with a performance. Emma Stone was having the time of her life with Bella Baxter, where else could a gal spit, grunt, masturbate, make crazy faces, and learn to use her arms and feet (punching people along the way) except in cinema? Yorgos Lanthimos is no stranger to the bizarre and unhinged, and here, he has solidified Stone as a long-term collaborator and muse, liberating her from the confinement of being an American actress to reach a level of libertine only found in European movies. Bella is both funny and wacko, but also bestial and ravenous, and Stone perfectly encapsulates that man-child/man-monster hybrid energy.

6. Greta Lee in Past Lives

Celine Song’s Past Lives calls out to tired souls. It’s a beautifully made anti-fairytale movie, where the prince and the princess meet at the wrong place and time, where the much-anticipated climax stirs nothing in the course of events. Nora is an ambitious immigrant woman, her choices are never easy. To move on with her life, she had to bury the past, to let go of the silly, hopeless romanticism of a land left behind, a world no longer her own. But to meet Hae Sung again is to allow all those buried desires, dreams, and lust to resurface. Greta Lee nails the role of Nora, caught in between two worlds; the way she watches Teo Yoo’s sad innocent face, the way heartbreak slowly forms on her composed features, is the work of a veteran actress in command of all her tools.

5. Penélope Cruz in Ferrari

Everybody wants a feisty woman to claw her way through a performance. Penélope Cruz is not the kind of woman to be dismissed at any chance. She’s there with her fire and her raw pain, she’s not one to hold back, but she has not been that intense since Vicky Cristina Barcelona. The greatest directors are the ones who don’t let her tone down her energy but raise the bar higher so that her performance reaches a crescendo, deservedly so. As Laura Ferrari she eats the scenes, almost wiping out Adam Driver’s existence entirely from every scene they acted opposite each other. It’s great to see the various manifestations of grief on the screen so that people from the audience who went through similar experiences could feel less alone, and luckily for us in 2023 we had two amazing interpretations of a mother losing a child, Cruz was one of them and she nailed it.

4. Zac Efron in Iron Claw

At the beginning of the year, the idea of Zac Efron making my Best Actors of the Year list would have made me roll my eyes.  I always associated Efron with the fluff of the Disney Channel productions era; the music, the dances, the weird actresses with squeaky voices, the schmaltz, it was all too much for me. But when I had a career retrospective, Efron worked so hard to reinvent himself beyond the poster boy for Disney’s reputation. From The Paperboy to 17 Again, and from Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil, and Vile to Hairspray, Efron has been trying to build status in a tough business that rarely handled former Disney or YA stars with kindness or enthusiasm. In The Iron Claw, Efron is a monster. He ruptures the screen, he breaks hearts as Kevin Von Erich, and commands the movie, like the whole family revolves around him, even when his brothers are on their own. His work here is grounded-actor material and that’s surprising and deserving of award recognition.

3. Milo Machado-Graner in Anatomy of a Fall

If there’s anything Justine Triet gifted to the world in 2023, then it’s Milo Machado-Graner as Daniel. Graner’s body tells stories that his hushed tone fails to express. His hunched back, bent shoulders, and head curled inward emphasize his vulnerability, in a crushing, adult world where he is both a pawn and a hapless victim. Daniel is plunged into misery and pain from an early age. The fact that his parents have an unhealthy relationship is worsening his isolation. His sensitivity makes the world a big puzzle that he tries to navigate with a melancholy acceptance associated with kids his age, those who have known suffering early. Graner captures that frustrating childhood perfectly, and I might argue that the scenes in which the camera zooms in on his frail body, shrinking as his parents are torn to shreds in the courtroom are far more impactful than the ones where he breaks down.

2. Da’Vine Joy Randolph in The Holdovers

Grief has many manifestations, and women grieve in various forms and attitudes, but hardworking, hardboiled women don’t have the luxury of leaving the world behind and being encapsulated in their mourning. That’s where Da’Vine Joy Randolph excels in living, breathing, and transmitting all those emotions of a silently-suffering, grieving mother. Mary Lamb is not the average, tender, loving Mama Bear, she’s seen a lot, and put up with a lot to put her son through a decent educational route, one she couldn’t achieve when she was his age, only to have all her dreams crushed when he dies in the war. Randolph takes the pain and the imminent grief that her character is feeling to the core, making her chain-smoking adaptation to the situation, while watching the game shows and interacting with the other characters all the more impactful. 

1. Paul Giamatti in The Holdovers

How can a scriptwriter make a smelly, sweaty, bizarre-looking character lovable? How can you create sympathy without evoking disgust or ridicule? Giamatti turns Paul “Walleye” Hunham into one of the most compelling, truthful characters ever to appear on screen. Hearts break for him as he struggles with being a kind and honest person but having a repulsive air around him, a factor of contemptibility to his name that drives people away from him, even as he tries to connect with his limited social skills and working around his aversion to people and his general air of hostility. Giamatti breathes life and understanding through the role, and he depicts disappointment and self-pity in some of the highest movie scenes with such command of his tools as an actor that he doesn’t need to move to make audience members connect with him on a deeper emotional level. This is my favorite performance of last year without a doubt.

List: Dave Giannini’s Top 10 Movies of 2023

2023, a real odd, but overall good, year for movies. It feels like every year, the theatrical experience is in a different kind of trouble.  This year, it was a horrific strike that limited even the ability to talk about movies publicly. Without the absolutely insane Barbenheimer event, who knows where we would be.  But this year also contained some legitimate classics of the form and I had a great time at the cinemas throughout the entire calendar. 

This list is, of course, limited to movies I could actually see (Apologies to Origin). 

Honorable mentions include: The Killer, The Holdovers, Barbie, May December, Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse

10. Rocky Aur Rani Kii Prem Kahaani

Yeah, this one might seem out of left field. Or maybe you haven’t heard of it. I don’t consider myself an expert in Indian cinema.  But I am an expert in me having a good time. You like musicals? Romance? Comedy? Family drama and history? This movie has all of that and more. Ranveer Singh is a perfect, lovable, idiot.  He doesn’t know much, but his heart is in the right place. And Alia Bhatt? Perfection and I won’t hear any arguments. This is a long movie, but it never feels like it.  It’s a movie that makes me smile even when thinking about it. Do yourself a favor, find this movie and watch it. Thank me later.

9. Poor Things

I find it interesting that as Yorgos Lanthimos gets more freedom, he becomes more approachable (as long as you’re not a prude about sex). Poor Things being this low on the list just shows you what a great year we had in 2023. Emma Stone deserves all of the praise that she is getting, but I only hope that Mark Ruffalo gets the awards attention, too. He is on a special comedic level here. But also, visually, this is one of the stunners of the year. Lanthimos clearly does not care about realism and uses the fantastical to allow us to just join in on both the wildness and the journey of his characters.

8. Monica

I’m just going to be clear here. Trace Lysette gave the best performance of the year. That’s it. She is absolutely perfect. And as she has been discussing on social media, if a cisgender person gave this performance, it would be a guaranteed nomination, if not win. Barring a huge surprise, this will not happen for Ms. Lysette. But don’t let that dissuade you. Monica was one of my favorite theater experiences of the year. A silent discussion of depression, familial trauma, and small moments of healing. This is what watching independent film in particular, and cinema in general, is all about. I saw this movie early in the year and it has stuck with me, and even improved with time.

7. Oppenheimer

What to say that hasn’t been said. I am a lover of Christopher Nolan films, and this is his true epic. In scale, in story, in pure gall. And yet, unlike many epics, Oppenheimer is an actor’s dream. Obviously, Cillian Murphy is great, and this has been talked to death. But the gigantic cast, they are all just right and serve the movie in ways that supporting characters rarely do. Yet, despite this, Nolan also never loses sight of the bombast necessary to tell this particular story. He manages to do it all; character work, special effects, biopic, and a lesson movie without feeling preachy. Kind of a miracle now that I think of it!

6. Anatomy of a Fall

And here is the second best performance of the year. Sandra Hüller truly makes you forget that she is acting. You can literally pick any moment in the movie from her as her awards clip. And if you know me, you know that I do not appreciate most child performances. But Milo Machado-Graner is different. A truly moving, stunning performance and story. We can argue all day about whether she did it or not (She’s innocent!) but that may be the most uninteresting conversation in the whole film. Anatomy of a Fall is so good and intimate, it almost feels like you shouldn’t be seeing it.

5. Killers of the Flower Moon

I wrote a whole review of this on this site. Scorsese, incredibly, has not lost a step. This movie contains a performance so powerful that it makes you forget that she is acting against titans like DiCaprio and DeNiro. Lily Gladstone will likely be the first Native American person to win an Oscar, and good for her, she deserves it. Martin Scorsese really is a master, he finds a way to teach us both our part in tragedy, and our responsibility as those who devour this media. His choices in the final moments will stick with me for many, many years. 

4. Past Lives

I am an easy mark for this kind of movie. You want Dave to support your movie? Just make it about longing.  This has longing in spades. I am still in disbelief that this was director Celine Song’s first feature. It is assured, calm, and has more depth than many experienced filmmakers. Greta Lee, Teo Yoo, and John Magaro create relationships that seem like peering into both past and future. The possibilities, the way our lives fork, this movie says it all without spoon feeding and saying it out loud. Past Lives is a treasure and will continue to be for many years. 

3. All of Us Strangers

All of Us Strangers is heartbreaking. All of Us Strangers is heart healing. For those of us who have had to come out of the closet, it tells a truth rarely told. Most of the stories are all accepting or all rejecting. But often, life is not like this. The coming out story here is neither, it is performed by people, real humans with faults and struggles. But beyond this, All of Us Strangers is also a beautiful love story, kind of (watch it, you’ll get what I mean). Both Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal are a perfect fit for their roles and for each other. All of Us Strangers is a beautiful, important, painful watch, and worth every second.

2. The Taste of Things

Another film that I was lucky enough to review for InSession Film. Although it was surpassed in my list of best films, this is likely the one I will come back to most. If it’s not the best food movie ever, it is just behind the great Tampopo. Love is food. Food is love. Age and time don’t matter. Love will conquer everything, even if only for a short time. The Taste of Things lives in my heart and probably always will.

1. The Zone of Interest

I will admit, this could be recency bias. It also could be that Jonathan Glazer is exactly on my wavelength. Even more than most movies set during the Holocaust, The Zone of Interest, is truly difficult to watch. But the difficulties come for different reasons. There is almost no violence witnessed on screen, very little suffering besides the background sounds that we hear. Glazer spends the entire run time building to a daring moment in the third act. In this moment, you realized that the accusatory is not pointed solely at the evil Germans, but at humanity in general. This movie shook me to my core, and if you can move past the achingly slow pace, it will for you, too.

List: Hector Gonzalez’s Top 10 of 2023

Anyone who says 2023 wasn’t a good year in film hasn’t seen enough of them. The 2020s have been an excellent decade so far, cinema-wise. Each year that passes, we get more surprises from directors on the rise, as well as those returning to filmmaking after a brief or lengthy hiatus. All of the projects in this list are directed by filmmakers whom I have held in high regard since I first saw one of their pictures, with the exception of one who has directed an astonishing debut. These directors are just unique in every sense of the word – crafting visionary and powerful pieces of work, some of which I believe will stand the test of time. From Laura Citarella’s Trenque Lauquen to Jonathan Glazer’s The Zone of Interest, I have compiled a list of films that not only were my favorites of the year but also that I consider some of the most creative and well-orchestrated pieces of cinema delivered to us this year. 

So, let’s get things rolling; here are my top 10 films this year (without including some of the festival hits that haven’t been formally released). Some honorable mentions: Showing Up, May December, Totem, Asteroid City, and R.M.N

10. Infinity Pool (Dir. by Brandon Cronenberg)

Starting things off, the number ten spot goes to Brandon Cronenberg’s madhouse of depraved and campy delights, Infinity Pool – a great companion piece to his previous feature, Possessor, and the latest project to take down the privileged class in a satirical manner, accompanying The White Lotus and Triangle of Sadness, but with a horror-induced twist. Its panoply of sadism, fixation, dominance, and sex conjures several provocative scenarios where desires run amok in ways that Alexander Skarsgård’s character doesn’t expect. Brandon Cronenberg has made sure to follow his old man’s steps (David Cronenberg – my favorite director of all time) while still pursuing his style. It is definitely not everyone’s cup of tea, as this luscious madhouse is all for the sickos. However, Infinity Pool is as creative and ingenious as it gets when it comes to modern horror filmmaking. Brandon Cronenberg is slowly becoming one of those directors that genre fans can rely on to deliver unique, bizarro experiences.

9. De Humani Corporis Fabrica (Dir. by Lucien Castaing-Taylor, Véréna Paravel)

Arriving with the tagline “the human body as you have never seen it before”, Lucien Castaing-Taylor and Véréna Paravel deliver one of the most fascinating and extraordinary showcases of the intertwining beauty and horror inside the human body with De Humani Corporis Fabrica. In the past, Castaing-Taylor and Paravel have received plenty of comments regarding their “provocative” images in their various documentaries, particularly Caniba. But their latest one will take you even more off guard as it shows the fragility of our bodies – going from x-rays to the operating table – by having the camera close to the overworked doctors and nurses doing their life-saving duties. So, for those who are easily provoked or don’t like graphic stuff like C-sections and dissected breasts to open-back surgeries, this isn’t going to be for you. This type of film makes everyone question the limits of what a documentary can be. 

8. Afire (Dir. by Christian Petzold)

Christian Petzold, one of Germany’s best current directors, has crafted a sentimental and occasionally hilarious tragicomedy in Afire (Roter Himmel) – a film that can be considered a modernized version of Pier Paolo Pasolini’s masterpiece, Theorem, including the ash that comes falling from the skies as a sign of psychological underpinnings taking place in the narrative. Misfortune and hopefulness are all over Petzold’s grand picture, where two characters – opposite of each other – reflect on the impact a specific person can have on your life for better or worse. It’s pretty simple stylistically, yet metaphorical in its touching dialogue sequences, specifically its final one. It took me a while to actually love this film altogether. But after watching three times throughout 2023, I found some relatable factors within the characters that actually moved me the more I watched. 

7. Fallen Leaves (Dir. by Aki Kaurismäki)

I absolutely love Aki Kaurismäki. The Finnish filmmaker holds a special place in my heart because of how his pictures make me feel. He is the curator of some of the most humility-filled and charming cinema in the past couple of decades, maybe even in history. He often makes the same movie with a different twist in the character dynamics and interactions. But, in his latest one, Fallen Leaves, Kaurismäki offers his most heartwarming and emotional pairing yet, lifted by the performances of Jussi Vatanen and Alma Pöysti. The late addition to the director’s Proletariat Trilogy (alongside Shadows in Paradise, Ariel, and The Match Factory Girl) is lifted by the feeling of finding that particular person who brightens your day even in the bleakest emotional status. And many of us went through that sort of situation during the transition period between the pandemic and now. 

6. Past Lives (Dir. by Celine Song) 

One of the best directorial debuts of our generation and a heartbreaking portrayal of modern love and isolation is Celine Song’s intimate and delicate Past Lives. Spanning three decades and two countries, Song’s film resembles Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy. However, unlike the aforementioned series of films, it subverts people’s romantic fantasies in exchange for a more honest view of why people choose to live in a constant state of “what if”. It explores the irreversibility of time, a pet topic for the post-pandemic era, through piercing conversations that feel so authentic that it makes you feel like the director went through similar scenarios. The experience of watching this in a theater full of people sobbing their eyes out was one to remember – everybody being moved to tears by the power of cinema. In terms of emotion, no other film beats Celine Song’s. 

5. Priscilla (Dir. by Sofia Coppola)

Sofia Coppola takes some of the atmospheric elements from her previous films, such as Marie Antoinette and The Virgin Suicides, to adapt Priscilla Presley’s autobiography, Priscilla. Coppola creates a twisted fairytale that explores the innocence, love, and melancholy a young woman experiences in and out of the spotlight of the King of Rock n’ Roll’s stature. Like most of her filmography, it contains a dreamy and enchanting look that’s alluring. But unlike them, there’s more darkness prevalent in the fairytale box set in which Priscilla, played by an astonishing Cailee Spaeny (my favorite performance of the year), inhabits. Combined with the excellent attention to detail in its techs (costumes, production design, and makeup), these elements wash over you at different lapses and raise many emotions. In my opinion, Priscilla is one of Coppola’s most polished works and possibly her best one to date. 

4. Trenque Lauquen (Dir. by Laura Citarella)

One of the most overlooked films of the year is Laura Citarella’s new project, Trenque Lauquen. The film, divided into twelve chapters and two movies, takes a visualized novel approach to unravel its existential questions like a matryoshka doll. It makes us question our place in the world – the missing pieces in our lives. Citarella fills her film with equal amounts of sympathy and melancholy, making each story beat flourish. This is one of the most controlled and orchestrated narrative-focused projects of the decade so far. Trenque Lauquen might unfold in a way that causes some viewers to lose patience with them. Still, those interested in being rewarded with a puzzle-like experience of contemplation will be hooked by Citarella and Laura Peredes’ surprising feat. 

3. Godland (Dir. by Hlynur Pálmason)

With a directorial hand fueled by atmospheric dread and the simmering active volcano in the background of the Icelandic setting, Hlynur Pálmason delivers a demanding and utterly fascinating grim story about a colonizer’s toxic vanity in Godland. Since its festival run last year, I have been talking about this film and its poetic exploration of religion, sacrifice, and apostasy. His style is similar to that of Werner Herzog and Theodor Dreyer, where Pálmason inclines on using the abrasiveness of the film’s pacing and location to his favor. It feels muscular yet elegiac – ravishing the viewer as one beautiful composition transitions to another, captured by the best cinematographer working today, Maria von Hausswolff. It requires plenty of patience as it goes through its motions in a slow and brutal manner. But those willing to take time to bask in it will be treated with a magnificently crafted feature from one of the most interesting new directors on the rise. 

2. Pacifiction (Dir. by Albert Serra)

Albert Serra gives us his most accessible film with Pacifiction, but, on the other hand, it has his self-stylized, pretentious demeanor that fans of his work love. This is a Twin Peaks episode, but instead of having a detective story about a murder in the middle of it, a man is descending into madness because of military conspiracies. It is ridiculous and occasionally baffling, but I absolutely loved it. The characters have conversations about philosophy and politics, as well as how the two intertwine with one another in a manner that seems entirely odd. You can’t pinpoint their responses’ mood or tone, which puts the viewer in a constant wave of emotions. Pacifiction is the strangest experience you might have this year because of how Serra orchestrates it all with a dreamy and melancholic haze covering the beautiful landscapes, mesmerizingly shot by cinematographer Artur Tort. If you want to see the most intentionally absurd project of 2023, watch this one immediately. 

1. The Zone of Interest (Dir. by Jonathan Glazer) 

I don’t know what else can be said about Jonathan Glazer’s bone-chilling and distressing masterpiece, The Zone of Interest. The master’s vision is in his most distinctive and experimental version, breaking the mold of what we’d expect from war films and presenting us with something so horrifyingly original that just leaves you in complete awe by the craft and horrified by putting us face to face with the banality of evil. Every aspect – the haunting sound, Mica Levi’s ambient score, the Łukasz Żal’s astonishing cinematography, just to name a few – is detailed and adds to the experience. There’s not a single beat missed by everyone involved. Once you watch it, you won’t stop thinking about it. And that is a fact. 

List: Jacob Throneberry’s Top 10 of 2023

2023 was a peculiar year for me. In late 2022, I decided to change my life and apply for graduate programs. I had not been in school since I graduated from my undergrad program in May of 2020, and since then I knew that I wanted to continue my studies; more particularly, my film studies. However, the timing had never felt right between the pandemic and the lockdown, that was until this year when I was accepted to a grad school program that would allow me to get my Master’s Degree in Film Studies. Moving 11 hours from home was a challenging task, but getting back into the mode of studies, tests, essays, and lectures proved to be more time-consuming than I ever thought. Not to mention, I was lucky enough to be an integral part of the university’s successful rugby team; needless to say, my time was incredibly limited.

Still, I managed to see quite a few 2023 films, and even though it took me a while, was able to catch up to some of this year’s best releases. Epics, indies, and one of cinema’s biggest battles at the theater flooded screens in a way that screams: “Movies are back!” With that being said, here are my top 10 of 2023.

Honorable Mentions: Maestro, The Holdovers, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, Air, Wonka

10. Oppenheimer

The second half of the Barbenheimer craze falls at number 10 on my list, but that should just be a testament to how strong this year is. Oppenheimer was a visual and aural treat providing an IMAX experience like none I had seen before. It was loud and colorful, but it was also so emotional and superbly acted by Cillian Murphy who gave the best performance of his life as J. Robert Oppenheimer. Christopher Nolan is at his best here perfectly melding a visual epic with true human emotions, without trying to be smarter than the audience, that reminds us of what kind of director he really can be.

9. Poor Things

From the two Yorgos Lanthimos films I have seen (The Lobster and The Favourite) I had assumed that I would be witnessing a pretty absurd film (in a good way). What I wasn’t ready for was how emotionally deep this film was. Emma Stone as Bella Baxter is such a perfect performance navigating through all stages of girlhood and womanhood while staying true to herself and her wants. Mark Ruffalo and Ramy Youseff are great, but Willem Dafoe spoke to me giving a tender and delicate performance, one which even one of the craziest on-screen actors can do so well.

8. Beau is Afraid

No film this year brought me so much joy in the theater. Beau is Afraid was marketed as a horror movie, sure, but this 3-hour film was even more comedic than it was horrifying. The elements were there, but I think this is the kind of messed up and wild filmmaking that Ari Aster has been wanting to do, but hasn’t had the chance to do until now. Joaquin Phoenix is fantastic, as are all the supporting performances, but this film had so much shock, suspense, awe, and pure absurdity to where I have loved every viewing of it. Dare I say Ari Aster’s best work yet?

7. John Wick Chapter 4

Before this year, I had never seen a John Wick film. As a genre, action is fairly low for me in terms of enjoyment, and so this franchise was something I had never sought out. Nevertheless, even though I had yet to see a John Wick movie, I still agreed to take on the challenge of reviewing the film. Knowing this, I watched all 3 releases before seeing Chapter 4 in IMAX, and not only did it find a way onto my top 10 list of the year, it quickly became my favorite theater experience. From the sound of the booming first punch to the insane overhead art gallery fight sequences, John Wick Chapter 4 set a new standard for action films providing unbelievable stunts and choreography, genuine emotion, and quite frankly, just some of the coolest shots of the entire year. This movie was not just action, it was a spectacle with great cinematography, committed performances, and car chases better than anything the Fast movies have done in years.

6. The Zone of Interest

Jonathan Glazer’s The Zone of Interest messed me up. A film that displays the evils of humanity and how easy it is for these evils to become normal. The direction from Glazer is astounding, weaving in magnificent tracking shots as well as a few night vision scenes that made me gasp, but the sound design is what has stuck in my head since my initial viewing, and what ultimately makes the film the most horrifying of the entire year. Not to mention an ending that calls for so much reflection, it truly is a film that will make you sick but is a more than necessary one to view.

5. All of Us Strangers

Paul Mescal’s Aftersun was my number-one film of 2022, and there were rumblings that his newest film All of Us Strangers had thematic similarities to his previous film. This alone got me excited for the film, but what I got was nothing that I expected. Mescal gives a fantastic performance (his final scene has stuck with me since I first viewed the movie), but Andrew Scott (better known as “Hot Priest” from Fleabag) is on another planet. His performance is as introspective and giddy as it is sad delivering a poignant performance never seen from the actor. Not to mention Andrew Haigh (whose previous film Lean on Pete is a massively underlooked gem) creates a sort of ghost story of a film that is beautiful, shocking, at times scary, but all in all emotional searching for one final connection. Jamie Bell is also fantastic in his best performance since Billy Elliot (2000) and Claire Foy is great as well.

4. The Boy and the Heron

I have to be honest, the first Studio Ghibli movie I had ever seen was My Neighbor Totoro and it was earlier last fall. I had planned to do a watch through but time got in the way and I was never able to. While My Neighbor Totoro is a cute and fun movie, I was not fully aware of the thematic depths writer/director Hayao Miyazaki could reach. A film about moving on and not dwelling on the past to the point where forgetting becomes… normal. Not only just normal but necessary as well. The score, voice performances (I have only seen the dubbed version but where is Robert Pattinson’s Oscar for this?), and astounding visuals all blend magnificently to create a film I will watch endlessly, especially when I am grieving.

3. Barbie

July 15, 2019. This is the first time I had publicly posted about Barbie. Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach had just signed on to co-write a Margot Robbie-led live-action version of one of the most popular toys of all time, and something about this pairing stuck out to me. I had been a Gerwig fan already after adoring both Lady Bird and Little Women, but there was something about this Barbie collaboration that I knew, even in 2019, would be a massive hit. I should’ve played the lottery, because almost 4 years after that original tweet Barbenheimer would rule the world, and Barbie would start its run to become the biggest movie of 2023. Even though I had (clearly) high aspirations for this film, I was still blown away by Gerwig’s tender and exuberant direction, Robbie’s honest performance, and Ryan Gosling giving a comedic performance for the ages – proving he is one of our generation’s best comedic actors. The zany, and at times campy, nature of the film fits into what Barbie should be, but the emotional core is what truly stuck with me, and so many others.

2. The Iron Claw

The Iron Claw was a movie that coming into the year I knew nothing about. As the release drew closer,! rumblings of this being an all-time tragic story began to surface, and my interest was piqued because I kept thinking: how tragic could it really be? However, while I was truly caught off guard by the harrowing story of the Von Erichs, it was the filmmaking from Sean Durkin (a person I knew nothing about before this film) and the true ensemble of performances that made this one of the year’s absolute best. All of the supporting performances are great, but Zac Efron taps into not only the physicality that this story needs, but also the emotion that truly sticks with you throughout – it’s the best performance of his career, and it’s the best performance of the year. The writing and direction are what ultimately elevates this film to my number two of the year as just about every correct decision Durkin could have made, he did, culminating in a powerful and emotional film with one of the absolute best endings of the year.

1. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse

The sequel to Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, one of the best and most inventive animated films of all time, had some massive shoes to fill. Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse not only matched its predecessor on pretty much every level, but it also managed to exceed it crafting a film like no one has ever seen before. The introduction of Oscar Isaac as the film’s antagonist, Spider-Man 2099, gave us one of the best voice performances of the entire year, and Jason Schwartzman’s Spot was one of the best villains, as well. The animation, effects, and design are all elevated in a way that gives this film the same groundbreaking feeling to the superhero genre that Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight did so many years ago. A perfect score from Daniel Pemberton is the icing on the cake for my number-one film of 2023.

Chasing the Gold: Golden Globes Predictions

Awards season kicks off on Sunday, January 7 with the Golden Globe Awards, and here are my predictions to win in the top film categories

Best Motion Picture – Drama 

This category comes down to Oppenheimer or Killers of the Flower Moon. Both films got into the Best Director and Best Screenplay categories, along with many acting categories. Although Killers of the Flower Moon has a chance, the runaway critical and box office hit of 2023 nominated in this category is Oppenheimer, and that’s the film that will win here.

Prediction: Oppenheimer 

Best Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical

Greta Gerwig’s Barbie received a lot of nominations on Golden Globes morning, and so it’s possible that film could win in the Comedy or Musical category. However, the likeliest winner here is Poor Things, which also received a ton of Golden Globe nominations across numerous categories, and which is the more awards-friendly film overall. Golden Globes voters have an opportunity to award Barbie in the newly created Cinematic and Box Office Achievement category, and so look for Poor Things to win in Best Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical. 

Prediction: Poor Things

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama

One of the biggest question marks of Golden Globes night is can Cillian Murphy win the trophy for Oppenheimer, when he’s up against Bradley Cooper for Maestro, who also received a Best Director nomination. The category Maestro will be strongest in this awards season is Best Actor for Cooper, and I do see a victory for him at the first major televised ceremony. Murphy has a shot here if Oppenheimer ends up winning a ton of trophies across the board, but I still see this as Cooper’s to lose.

Prediction: Bradley Cooper, Maestro

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama

This is one of the easiest categories to predict at the Golden Globes because, outside of a shocker victory for Sandra Hüller in Anatomy of a Fall, Lily Gladstone will be victorious for her performance in Killers of the Flower Moon. She has received the most critics’ prizes in Best Actress thus far, and with her closest competitor Emma Stone not in the category, anyone but Gladstone winning here would be a huge surprise. 

Prediction: Lily Gladstone, Killers of the Flower Moon

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical

The biggest suspense here is if anyone can beat Paul Giamatti for The Holdovers. Despite The Holdovers missing nominations at the Golden Globes in both Best Screenplay and Best Director, the film is one of the most beloved of 2023 and is going to be a strong contender in the acting categories for the remainder of the season. The only person who could beat Giamatti is Jeffrey Wright for American Fiction, that film also up for Best Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical. A victory for Wright would be a great one, but I think this trophy’s going to Giamatti.

Prediction: Paul Giamatti, The Holdovers

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical

This is a category in which we could see an upset. Although Emma Stone seems like the likeliest choice for her dazzling performance in Poor Things, my favorite performance of 2023, Golden Globe voters could also honor Margot Robbie for Barbie or Fantasia Barrino for The Color Purple. Although The Color Purple missed a crucial nomination for Best Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical, Barrino could be the upset here. And with all the nominations for Barbie, it seems like Robbie has a strong chance, too. However, I will stick with my guns and go with Stone.

Prediction: Emma Stone, Poor Things

Best Performance by a Male Actor in a Supporting Role in any Motion Picture

The Supporting Actor category is one of the most fascinating this season because it could go in a number of ways. Robert Downey Jr. could sweep the season for his performance in Oppenheimer. Ryan Gosling could also pull ahead for his turn in Barbie. Or Golden Globes voters could throw us for a loop and award Charles Melton for May December after he picked up some big critics’ prizes. Pretty much anything could happen in this particular category, but I feel a win coming for Downey Jr.

Prediction: Robert Downey Jr., Oppenheimer

Best Performance by a Female Actor in a Supporting Role in any Motion Picture

Like Best Supporting Actor, the Best Supporting Actress category could feasibly go to anyone nominated here. A wonderful surprise win, for example, would be Rosamund Pike for her delicious performance in Saltburn. I do think the winner comes down to Danielle Brooks for The Color Purple or Da’Vine Joy Randolph for The Holdovers. These two contenders are pretty neck-and-neck at the moment, but because The Color Purple wasn’t recognized in the Best Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical category, Randolph gets the edge.

Prediction: Da’Vine Joy Randolph, The Holdovers

Best Director – Motion Picture

Outside of a shocker victory for Martin Scorsese, who Golden Globe voters have awarded many times before in this category, or Greta Gerwig, who could win based on the great enthusiasm Golden Globe voters have for her movie, Christopher Nolan appears to be the obvious choice to take this one. He’s never won a Golden Globe in his long and celebrated career, and this feels like a season where he may completely sweep the Best Director category at all the televised ceremonies.

Prediction: Christopher Nolan, Oppenheimer

Best Screenplay – Motion Picture

With Nolan likely winning the Best Director prize, Golden Globe voters will be able to go in another direction in the Screenplay category and reward a different film than Oppenheimer. Since Poor Things is probably winning Best Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical, Tony McNamara seems like the smartest prediction for that film’s screenplay. But since Celine Song also received a Best Director nomination for Past Lives, my favorite film of 2023, I’m going with Song for the win!
Prediction: Celine Song, Past Lives

List: Maxance Vincent’s Top 10 of 2023

Let’s be honest: 2023 was not the best year for Hollywood, which dealt with its first dual actors/writers strike since 1960—with a string of mega-budget blockbusters flopping, independent and international cinema flourished. For me, 2023 will be remembered as the year of Shah Rukh Khan, where the Baadshah of Bollywood came back to the screen four times (!!!) and reclaimed his throne as the King he has been since starring in 1993’s Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge. That alone made going to the movies worth it. A few movies didn’t quite make the top ten, including Magic Mike’s Last Dance, Barbie, Extraction 2, The Zone of Interest, Pathaan, All of Us Strangers, American Fiction, Poor Things, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes and Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3, but should be lauded for their attempt to break against the mold and deliver some of the most singular moviegoing experiences of 2023. 

10. Beau is Afraid

Ari Aster’s third feature film is a total hoot, even if it might not be everyone’s cup of tea. With a career-best performance from Joaquin Phoenix, who descends into total and often nightmarish amounts of madness for 179 minutes, Aster continuously assaults your patience into something that never once materializes into anything tangible but is so riotously entertaining and absurd that you can’t help but love it. Just know this: if I ever were to make a feature film and given carte blanche from a studio, I would do something like Beau is Afraid. Take that as you will. 

9. How to Blow Up a Pipeline

With all of this Oscar talk, I am surprised no one is talking about Daniel Goldhaber’s How to Blow Up a Pipeline, one of the most important movies of 2023. Goldhaber’s environmentalist thriller couldn’t have arrived at a better time in a year that will be remembered as the hottest on record (until the summer of 2024). Oil lobbying groups even attempted to campaign against it when the consensus is clear: fossil fuel-driven burning is the cause of our environmental woes. Goldhaber thrillingly paints this message with the manic energy of a Safdie brothers film through its handheld camera and incessant shouting from its leads, punctuated by Gavin Brivik’s distressing Daniel Lopatin-esque score. Unfortunately, it’s a highly essential movie that isn’t being talked about enough. Here’s hoping it gets brought back into the conversation soon. 

8. Bottoms

In just 91 minutes, Emma Seligman and Rachel Sennott keep the laughs coming in breakneck fashion, with each massive setpiece as gut-bustingly hilarious as the last. Sennott and Ayo Edebiri have incredible chemistry, making their script feel alive and highly energetic. It was the big-screen comedy event of the year, and I’m glad to have seen it that way with a massively packed crowd. 

7. Oppenheimer

Christopher Nolan’s latest is also his best-ever film. Fully at the height of his large-format artistic powers, he crafts a towering and monumental achievement that is highly difficult to watch but continuously thrilling through its career-best performances from Cillian Murphy and Robert Downey Jr. I may never watch Oppenheimer ever again, but I’m glad I witnessed Nolan’s biggest triumph on an IMAX screen as one of the most important cinematic documents of our time. 

6. Leo 

No, I’m not talking about the Adam Sandler Lizard movie, although it was highly entertaining and better than most animated offerings released in 2023. I’m talking about Lokesh Kanagaraj’s Vijay-starred character study on how a person’s penchant for violence can never be extinguished if they are born and raised out of violence. Parthiban says he is an ordinary person who wants to live an ordinary life, but the threat of Antony Das (Sanjay Dutt) leads him back into his old (bloody sweet) past. What’s most striking about Kanagaraj’s pictures is how he elevates his action from scene to scene and visually represents Parthiban’s psychological shift. Look at how his camera movements evolve within 164 minutes, and it’ll tell you everything you need to know about his visual-first approach and why he’s one of the best Tamil filmmakers working today. 

5. John Wick: Chapter 4

Chad Stahelski’s opera of violence is one of the most artistically stirring movies of 2023, yet there isn’t a single Awards body even nominating it for its craft. Dan Laustsen arguably delivers the best cinematography of any movie released in 2023, giving John Wick: Chapter 4 the visual palette it needs to set it apart from literally any action movie ever released. I remain convinced it’s one of the greatest American action films ever made, which will hopefully change Hollywood’s approach to action and pave the way for stuntwork to finally be recognized as the craft it is. 

4. Anatomy of a Fall 

Justine Triet’s latest collaboration with Sandra Hüller saw her win the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival, and it’s the decade’s most deserving win. Patiently revealing the drama, Triet brilliantly shoots the film in a vérité-like fashion, giving an authentic look and feel to a lead character who we aren’t sure to trust. At the end of the film, we will all have different interpretations of what we’ve seen and whether or not Sandra is guilty, but that’s the beauty of ambiguity: it’s a far better and more intelligent way of making art than spoon-feeding the audience, preventing them from thinking. Triet makes us all reflect. 

3. The Nature of Love

Since her feature directorial debut in A Brother’s Love, Monia Chokri has single-handedly saved Québec cinema’s reputation internationally (Denis Villeneuve is currently working in the Hollywood ecosystem, mind you), with movies that are not only terrifically written but are masterclasses in visual storytelling. Collaborating for the first time with cinematographer André Turpin, the two create a rich visual language inspired by some of the greatest filmmakers for a traditionally paced but emotionally enveloping love story with two impassioned performances from Magalie Lépine-Blondeau and Pierre-Yves Cardinal. It’s the best piece of Québec cinema I’ve seen this year and sets Monia Chokri apart as one of the few singular auteurs in our cultural ecosystem. 

2. Jawan 

Shah Rukh Khan’s return to Masala filmmaking perfectly showcases his acting talents for the uninitiated. Playing the dual role of Azad and Vikram Rathore, Khan exudes glorious charisma and pitch-perfect comedic timing as he continuously plays with his look and façade in front of the camera. Winking at the audience and quasi-breaking the fourth wall to deliver his most fearless monologue on the power of voting, Khan’s screen presence remains unmatched, and with the aid of Tamil director Atlee and musical director Anirudh Ravichander (who also worked on Lokesh’s Leo), he stars in his best movie since Chennai Express and will hopefully pave the way for more spectacles involving the King sooner than later. 

1. Renaissance: A Film by Beyoncé

No work of art has been more powerful in 2023 than Renaissance: A Film by Beyoncé. Not so much a concert film but a deeply personal look at Beyoncé Knowles-Carter beyond the public façade she has constructed for over twenty years. Yes, it could be considered a piece of hagiography, but when the music she creates is this resonating and her cinematic approach to representing the highs and lows of the Renaissance tour is so striking and evocative, it’s hard not to be emotionally swelled by how, at times, grand and operatic the concert sequences are represented, but also in how soulful the film’s quiet moments are shot. Some of the film’s purest moments do happen on stage (Diana Ross showing up to sing Happy Birthday to Beyoncé), but most of them occur when she opens herself up to the world through her relationship with daughter Blue Ivy and parents Tina and Mathew. The fact is unequivocal: no one expresses herself like Beyoncé or can even make a movie like her. Taylor Swift tried with The Eras Tour but doesn’t have the cinematic vision that Beyoncé had with her Renaissance Tour picture. It’s, in my opinion, the strongest and most powerful movie of 2023 and is still making me cry as I write these words. That’s the mark of something truly special. 

Op-ed: ‘Blade Runner’: In the Eyes of the Outsider 

As far as loneliness, I feel Los Angeles and its layout, having to drive everywhere – it is a lonely place. It’s an isolated city in that respect because you’re driving to places alone listening to the radio. – Jason Schwartzman

There’s something peculiarly magical about L.A. in the eyes of those who have never been to the States, and who only know about it from behind screens, lusty voyeurs of the big city, watching in awe as the filthy rich housewives of Beverly Hills endlessly bicker about mindless chatter, or the gangs stroll around in glamourous cars, pimps and hoes in the backseats of limos. In my eyes, however, I never loved LA. I felt it was a cold, fake city, a manufactured replica of what fine art should be. Films like Nocturnal Animals heightened the feeling. Films like Michael Mann’s Heat implemented the thought in my head, this is not a city for the mediocre, it is neither merciful nor generous, it does not have the comforting silent-killer type of the South or the elegance and cultural significance of New York, even with the latter’s higher crime rate.

It wasn’t until I watched Ridley Scott’s neo-noir masterpiece Blade Runner that I realized, I knew exactly how Los Angeles looks. I can envision walking in this city feeling more alienated than my writer-self usually experiences. This city is cold and heartless; replicants are scattered all over it but they do not show their replicant-side. Au contraire, they mimic the normalcy that they desperately tried to escape by inhabiting the city in the first place, and they carry themselves around with an air of confidence that both scares and intrigues.

Los Angeles is the source of the light for the moth; a city as vast and dreamy as one could imagine. Sinful and lustful without basing its core and aesthetics purely on lust; it promises angels when in fact, a demon lurks on every corner, whether a failed job, a failed love story, a robbery gone too far, or a grisly crime masquerading as a simple homicide.

For Scott’s 1982 Blade Runner, I was not the target audience, Sci-fi being the least interesting genre on my PH scale. It was a bet with a fellow cinephile that the one who watches the most respected films on critics’ lists will get an Ace or something that landed Blade Runner in my lap. I was not immediately taken, until Vangelis’s music score “Blade Runner Blues” played, with a slow-mo scene showing a woman in her undies killed at the hands of the main male protagonist. The scene, unnerving and sexist as it was, created a séance in which one would disappear. Blues music being a part of the bargain, I fell in love with the movie, later collecting a few of my favorite shots; Rachael staring into the camera while asking Deckard if he ever retired a human before, J.F. Sebastian and his creepy yet intimate collection of toys, Roy’s closing monologue. Strangely enough, every character seemed like a symbol of what the modern L.A. would look like as opposed to the cyberpunk, futuristic, retrofitted exteriors with matte paintings and miniature work.

In Ridley Scott’s 2019 Los Angeles, people were doomed. Being stuck in this futuristic city, whether on top of the isolated skyscrapers or being forced to walk down the underbelly of the city, you had no choice but to exist as you are. There would be no air of familiarity or actual contact, even when it happens, Deckard –the main protagonist- forces himself on Rachael, making it seem as if almost nothing real comes out of the city drenched in rain and decay; high-tech style.

Los Angeles scared me. I knew from the moment I saw the replicant’s –Zhora- barely clothed, teary-eyed corpse that this city had no mercy for women or underdogs. After all, Roy died, the hero saved the day and forced himself on the only woman who was not killed, probably because she was obedient enough to deserve sparing her life. Los Angeles always looked sunny in the films that glorified the City of Lights, and in films like Heat; Los Angeles is a city where people become reciprocal versions of each other. There is a Yin to the Yang, a cop to the rogue, and both get along easier than with their respective clans. In 500 Days of Summer, love is lost and never found on the city’s sidewalks. Nothing about LA offers promise, besides the false or rhetorical. Blade Runner is no exception to a series of films that only manage to make the city less approachable, less dreamy-like, and more like fantastic versions of an actual city that does not smell hostile and too grand for the newcomers’ ambition.

In multiple ways, Blade Runner seems like the ultimate escape for the avenger in every viewer; dark, poetic, grim, and desperately pleasing, it leaves a bitter taste in the mouth even if it uses an iconic macho American hero –such as Harrison Ford- to create a regular tale that squashes the underdogs and celebrate the All-American hero. Ford (or Rick Deckard) is aided by a city that has no sympathy for losers and only celebrates success, even if at the expense of its architectural thrive.

The array of characters in the Blade Runner verse highlights the cycle of alienation in which subversive people who live in Los Angeles constantly move. Freaks, those haunted by past crimes, those who hide secrets or carry them around, those who prey on the meek and the marginal only to hide their vulnerability, on the other hand, the rich and the famous are facing the same sense of isolation up in their skyscrapers, only for inter and intra cultural clashes to become a vivid and ephemeral presence in the way replicant vs. replicant hunter collide on the rainy, foggy streets where the overpopulated slums are crowded with people who are always on the move.

Blade Runner – The Sexism

In a city like Los Angeles, you probably would not imagine that sexism exists. Women are at their best, manicured, botox-ed, injectable filler-sewn lips aside. You watch reality shows; “The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills”, and “Vander Pump Rules”, to name a few and you realize, these women are becoming rich, pampered versions of who they ought to be. They are being judged by sexism as badly as a woman in an African or Arab country, who would be judged based on her clothing, as much as they would be judged by who aged faster, and whose lips are more luscious.

It’s not just the idea of a Love Theme, saxophone music played smoothly over a woman forced to accept a man’s sexual advances. Still, the idea that notions of beauty, sexuality, aging, womanhood, and liberation are messed up in the city of angels only throws a shade on its power over people confined to it. Women are all sultry and beautiful, awaiting the interaction with men probably not ready enough to satisfy them.

Blade Runner – The Diversity

Los Angeles is one of the most diverse cities in the world. But Blade Runner does not represent that. In my mind, the diversity that Los Angeles possesses is merely a background through which the white, privileged, plastic-surgery-obsessed, fake art scene goers thrive. The underlying populated slums work only as fuel for the survival of the upper class. Two vivid examples include two of the central female characters; who happen to be replicants. Strangely –rather unsurprisingly- every significant female character in this movie happens to be a replicant; Pris the pleasure model and Zhora the exotic dancer are the most notable examples since they rebel against the cause of their manufacture and thus get punished for it. Both are killed at the hands of the alpha male protagonist Deckard. The only female replicant whose life is spared is Rachael, who submits to Deckard’s nonconsensual sexual advances.

Submission is the key to survival in Los Angeles, replicants who go astray are “retired”, in other words, they are killed for daring to ask for equality, or to think of a different future where they are not treated as creatures designed to live the life they are told they were born to walk, and a role they were born to fulfill. Their price for being alive. In a city where you dare to dream whatever you please, Blade Runner shows you the grim truth, you are nothing but what you are told you are, even in the city of lights.

Blade Runner – The City

In the city of angels, life and death could be an expose of what lies beneath the road to stardom. Marilyn Monroe once described it as a freeing place, a city where you can be anybody you want. But the structure of the city is not even that inviting for a brave new world. It’s either condos and pool parties or scrapes of art scenes and Oakwood. These dreamers flock to the city on the pilgrimage of becoming the next diva or Hollywood sensation. They dream of getting rich fast or shedding off their old, loser skin. All of this effort, only to be mostly crushed by the gigantic city that has seen, swallowed, gurgled, and regurgitated thousands of similar aspiring creatures. In Blade Runner, the idea of a city that can collectively rejoice in the company of everyone does not sound like a reality, but more of a requiem of a dream someone else has dared to imagine. High-tech architecture, neon signs, and a social hierarchy that divides people racially and –dare I say- through gender and sexual orientation, only enhances the fact that a city of lights only casts polarizing beams on those who deserve it. The underdogs who dare to dream are punished mercilessly, or forced to flee with their dominant partners who happen to be White, male, and part of the elite.

In the end, Blade Runner is as unflinching as the city he is selling. It perfectly portrays how the glamour of the city hides an underbelly of people barely existing who will all be lost like “tears in rain”. The shock that L.A. has always given me is how insignificant the individual struggle is if not lived under the spotlight. How many apartment complex residents will return to where they came from; their dreams crushed, their brief encounters with the city lost forever, not worthy of a mention, an Oscar nod, or a Hollywood star on the Walk of Fame? Los Angeles is indeed the city of dreams, it treats people who pass by with an Eye of God perspective, only those who dare to wander are lost. But that’s not even a certainty. 

Movie Review: ‘Anyone But You’ is a Deeply Fun Romantic Comedy


Director: Will Gluck
Writers: Ilana Wolpert and Will Gluck
Stars: Sydney Sweeney, Glen Powell, Alexandra Shipp

Synopsis: After an amazing first date, Bea and Ben’s fiery attraction turns ice-cold–until they find themselves unexpectedly reunited at a destination wedding in Australia. So they do what any two mature adults would do: pretend to be a couple.


The last great movie event of 2023 is here, and, no, it’s not Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom. As comic book movies are suffering from a major identity crisis, the rom-com is back with full aplomb in Anyone but You, a modern retelling (of sorts) of William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing that’s very much steeped in early-2000s sensibilities, where its male & female leads do something so outlandish (because they hate their guts) that they inevitably fall in love. 

Case in point: Bea (Sydney Sweeney) and Ben (Glen Powell) pretend to be in love in an attempt not to ruin the marriage of Bea’s sister, Halle (Hadley Robinson), and Ben’s friend, Claudia (Alexandra Shipp). The two met a few months after Ben made a nice gesture to Bea, saving her from embarrassment, and immediately hit it off. But after Bea overheard Ben speak about her in an unflattering way to his friend Pete (GaTa), the two haven’t been on the best of terms. 

After Claudia’s father (Bryan Brown) sets up a ruse to pair the two, Bea and Ben overhear their conversations and “pretend” to be in love, but here’s the catch: they’re in love. No matter if Ben attempts to rekindle with her ex-girlfriend Margaret (Charlee Fraser) or if Bea’s parents (Dermot Mulroney & Rachel Griffiths) attempt to set up Bea with her ex-fiancé (Darren Barnet), the two will soon realize that they’re meant for another, even if they can’t stand each other. 

Of course, it’s written in the sky that they will end up together, no matter the faux-problems writer/director Will Gluck and co-scribe Ilana Wolpert throw at them. You’d be a fool to think this film will reinvent the wheel of rom-coms when they’re specifically engineered to draw a satisfying story with a happy ending, with an electric pair leading the movie and giving the energy needed to make it feel special. 

Luckily, Gluck has found quite the pair with Sweeney and Powell, both terrific to watch on screen. The two have a natural chemistry in earlier scenes that make their disdain feel palatable, and when the two pretend to be in love, the results are hilarious. Powell is a highly facial actor, as evoked in films like Top Gun: Maverick and Devotion, and he continues his track record of conveying most of his charm through his face. 

There’s a specific expression of pretend that had the entire audience in stitches, and no matter how corny they may be, this earnestness makes the entire thing pop with extreme jubilance. And when the two leads are paired on screen, the sparks fly. Sweeney impressed earlier this year through her portrayal of Reality Winner in Tina Satter’s Reality, in which she gave a terrific dramatic performance, but we’ve never seen her in a comedy until now. Lord knows that Madame Web certainly looks like a comedy, but Sweeney gives an impassioned – and fun – performance in Anyone But You that balances out Powell’s charm surprisingly well. 

Gluck also knows when to dial the comedy up and down and when to make its character development more heartfelt. One key sequence involving the characters reenacting a scene from James Cameron’s Titanic is the perfect example. It starts out as highly funny and moves into more serious territory when the protagonists open themselves up for the first time…until it picks itself back up with the best use of Natasha Bedingfeld’s “Unwritten” in any motion picture ever? Sure, why not. (And that song hammers home the early 2000s vibes the film wants to give). 

The supporting cast is also game to have fun, with Mulroney, GaTa, and Brown having the biggest ball of their lives with astutely self-aware and absurd performances that make the film feel like one fun trip to Australia. Nothing more, nothing less. All of the arcs are as conventional as they come, but there isn’t a single bad performance in this picture so it’s hard to be mad at it. 

Perhaps the film wouldn’t have worked if Sweeney and Powell weren’t such a good pair. But as it stands, Anyone but You is a deeply fun and earnest romantic comedy with two terrific performances. It checks all the boxes needed for a successful rom-com to work and will likely become a crowd-pleaser as families go to the movies for the holidays . If there’s one film to watch on the big screen during the season, it’s definitely Anyone but You, especially with a rowdy crowd ready to bask in early 2000s aesthetics and screenplays. Ain’t nothing wrong with that at all. 

Grade: B+

Criterion Releases: January 2024

Happy New Year!!! Time for a new year of new members of the Criterion Collection and some classics being re-released for 4K. For the month of January, two collections from legendary filmmakers, two independent Texas-styled noir dramas, a modern masterpiece of British cinema, and a Netflix film are part of the first batch of releases. One film, an early Criterion release, finally is brought back into the fold, and one director has a whole slate of films also brought in, with her magnum opus renewed after reaching historical poll levels. First, an international sensation in the 1950s which brought the Western world into a new, independent country’s society.

The Apu Trilogy (1955-1959)

In the first re-release, the world was introduced to writer, director, and composer Satyajit Ray with this eye-opening trilogy that covers the changing times of India from poverty in the country to the city. Following a single character from childhood to adulthood, he grows up in front of our eyes with three moving journeys: Pather Panchali, Aparajito, and Apur Sansar. Apu has a young boy in Bengali, then becomes a teenager who goes to Calcutta to study, followed by transition to adulthood, all alone and now working through his daily life as a writer and finding love to complete his transformation.

Chantal Akerman Masterpieces, 1968-1978

The opening decade of one of the world’s more reinventive filmmakers features nine movies that follow characters of loneliness, wanting, and sudden movement to unfamiliar terrain. Her first film, Saute ma Ville, was made at 18 years old. La Chambre, Hotel Monterrey, and News From Home were made about her time living in New York City. Je Tu Il Elle co-starred Akerman, which explicitly explored the lesbian sexuality. These art films raised Akerman’s platform as a major filmmaker which continued until her death in 2015.

But the single film that stands out above all else is the newly crowded #1 Film from Sight & Sound is Akerman’s Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. For more than three hours, the story keeps the camera on the titular character (Delphine Seyrig) as she goes through her daily routine of chores, which includes caring for her son and having the occasional lay for pay. This is not your usual character study as Akerman challenges the audience to follow every single moment in real time and take in the entire meaning of a singular life and what happens when the slightest of deviations causes sudden upheaval. 

Blood Simple (1984)

The next re-release is the debut film by Joel & Ethan Coen, a brilliant Texan neo-noir about a private detective (M. Emmet Walsh) who follows a couple having an affair (John Getz & Frances McDormand) for the woman’s husband (Dan Hedaya). With Barry Sonnenfeld’s keen eye as cinematographer and Carter Burwell’s lurid score, Blood Simple is one of the best film debuts, not least for showcasing the Coen Brothers and their unique storytelling with black humor and ingenious editing, putting together the first of many successful films by the duo.  

Lone Star (1996)

Joining the collection is John Sayles’ crime drama about a sheriff (Chris Cooper) and son of a well-known sheriff in Rio County who investigates the discovery of a skeleton. The deeper the investigation goes, the more the sheriff is led into a Texas town’s terrible past being revisited that includes his father. Joe Morton, Elizabeth Peña, and Kris Kristofferson also co-star in this riveting drama about the legacy of corruption and injustice that any place can suffer from and earned Sayles an Oscar nomination for his screenplay.  

Trainspotting (1996)

An original Criterion film back in the late 1990s, the film makes its long-awaited return to Criterion. Danny Boyle’s hyperenergetic story of a heroin addict (Ewan McGregor) is one of the most colorful, entertaining, and punkiest of the 1990s. Living wildly in squalored Edinburgh one day at a time, it is about one man’s determination to get high, party with his mates, and falling for a teenage girl (Kelly McDonald) who fancies him despite her age. Ewen Bremner, Johnny Lee Miller, and Robert Carlyle co-star as the rest of the pack of misfits accompanied by an eclectic soundtrack that keeps the film continuous upbeat and going on at full speed. 

Mudbound (2017)

The latest Netflix film to join is Dee Rees’ amazing film set in 1940s Mississippi about two World War II veterans who return and handle their struggles of regaining daily life. A White man (Garrett Hedlund) deals with PTSD and alcoholism, while a Black man (Jason Mitchell) returns to help his struggling family with their own attempt at the American Dream while also dealing with constant racial abuse. Carey Mulligan, Jason Clarke, Mary J. Blige (who received an Oscar nomination), Rob Morgan, and Jonathan Banks star in this stirring drama of pain and reconciliation. 

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Movie Review: ‘Society of the Snow’ is the Best Version of an Often Told Story


Director: J.A. Bayona
Writers: J.A. Bayona, Bernat Vilaplana, Jaime Marquez
Stars: Agustín Pardella, Esteban Kukuriczka, Francisco Romero

Synopsis: The flight of a rugby team crashes on a glacier in the Andes. The few passengers who survive the crash find themselves in one of the world’s toughest environments to survive.


This is not the first time the 1972 Andes flight disaster has been adapted into a movie. At the time, the film Alive could have been considered as notorious as any movie outside the B-variety that dared to depict cannibalism outside the studio system. John Marshall’s adaptation of Alive: The Story of the Andes Survivors by Piers Paul Read is presented in an almost campy adventure film style, complete with special effects that were state-of-the-art at the time but pale in comparison today. This latest Netflix retelling from J.A. Bayona surpasses its predecessor in almost every aspect, capturing the power of visceral storytelling through the concept of normalization.

Directed by Mr. Bayona and adapted from the nonfiction book La sociedad de la nieve by Pablo Vierci – the second book he wrote on the matter – the film follows the ill-fated journey of the 1972 Stella Maris College Rugby team aboard Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571. In a spectacular and horrifying scene, Mr. Bayona, director of photography Pedro Luque, and special effects artists Félix Bergés and Laura Pedro collaborate brilliantly to craft one of the most suspenseful and captivating disaster scenes in modern film history. The atmosphere is thick with youthful exuberance, juxtaposed with the sobering reality that wrenches that behavior away.

The film’s success extends beyond its aesthetic qualities. It immerses viewers in a gripping cinematic experience. The screenplay by Mr. Bayona, his collaborator on The Impossible, Bernat Vilaplana, Jaime Marques, and Nicolas Casariego faithfully portrays Mr. Vierci’s work, offering viewers a palpable sense of time, place, and the real-world stakes and tragedies of physical anguish and mental health toll. Additionally, the script delves into the ethical dilemma of the pros and cons of resorting to cannibalism among strangers, friends, and family. It adeptly balances moments of hope with setbacks that test the resilience of the real-life subjects.

As the script progresses, the concept of normalization takes hold, transforming the horror of how the 16 survivors endure their ordeal into a backdrop for an exhilarating and harrowing survival story in its third act. There are numerous moments when these young men strive for a semblance of normalcy, such as capturing the joy in a group photograph. Some individuals conceal evidence of their alternative food source for survival in certain scenes. Yet, you’ll be horrified by the sight of bones lying beside the group as they smile for the photograph. This scene is not fictional, and a simple Google search will reveal the jaw-dropping image that evidently was an afterthought. These powerful scenes give the story of grounded reality that never seems outlandish. 

Adding to the film’s authenticity is the cast, whom Mr. Bayona selects exclusively from Uruguayan and Argentine actors many of whom are making their debut]] in film roles. One can imagine that the filmmaker harnesses their anxiety, nervousness, and even fear to instill tension in their performances, yet still manages to feel almost minimalist. Among the standouts are those by Enzo Vogrincic Roldan and Agustín Pardella. The latter portrays Fernando ‘Nando’ Parrado, one of the individuals who courageously faced the elements to seek help. Pardella’s performance in the third act culminates in a nuanced, emotional, and profoundly affecting scene. Roldan, on the other hand, portrays Numa Turcatti. His thoughtful and meditative narration infuses the film with warmth, providing a heartfelt anchor amidst the emotionally evocative freezing conditions.

It should come as no surprise that Mr. Bayona’s film stands as a masterclass in technical filmmaking, given its astonishing real-life story, a handful of compelling performances, and breathtaking beauty amidst a horrific plight. The narrative structure and respect shown towards the survivors are pivotal, seamlessly weaving in universal emotions such as fear, bravery, loss, and hope. This grants Netflix’s Society of The Snow an honest emotional resonance rarely seen in survival thriller films. When paired with Michael Giacchino’s haunting yet contemplative score, Society of The Snow establishes itself as a cinematic experience like no other.

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Dunki’ is a Further Examination of Shah Rukh Khan


Director: Rajkumar Hirani
Writers: Abhijat Joshi, Rajkumar Hirani, Kanika Dhillon
Stars: Shah Rukh Khan, Taapsee Pannu, Vicky Kaushal

Synopsis: Four friends from a village in Punjab share a common dream: to go to England. Their problem is that they have neither the visa nor the ticket. A soldier promises to take them to the land of their dreams.


2023 is the year of Shah Rukh Khan. While American cinema was in complete shambles with its first dual actors/writers strike in sixty years, the Baadshah of Bollywood successfully came back from the nadir of his career in Pathaan (while also briefly appearing as the same character in Tiger 3, a reunion of sorts with Fan director Maneesh Sharma), Jawan, and now Dunki. Teaming up with Rajkumar Hirani, best-known for helming two of Aamir Khan’s finest pictures in 3 Idiots and PK, the film is as politically blunt as Khan’s previous efforts and examines the migrant crisis through the lens of Hardy Singh Dhillon (Khan), who leads a group of friends on the “Donkey flight” (AKA Dunki) from Punjab to London hoping for a better life. 

The first half of the film is its weakest part, adopting an overtly comedic tone that typically feels Hirani, but also can’t find a balance between the more serious, heavy-handed themes he wants to discuss and the light-hearted nature of the characters. That doesn’t mean there aren’t any jokes that work: one in particular is the funniest piece of dark humor I’ve seen in ages, and the “English Exam” sequence had me in stitches. But after that exam scene, a drastic shift in tone and atmosphere occurs that, while striking and raw, felt like it belonged in another movie. It is a powerful scene, only due to Vicky Kaushal embodying his character with so much anguish and despair. Still, it would’ve benefited from occurring later in the film, where the tone gets grimmer and more direct in examining its subject matter. 

The pace is also incredibly languishing. It takes over half of the 161-minute runtime to get things in motion. It spends lots of its introductory moments with its lead protagonists going from one scheme to the next in an attempt to get a Visa, only for these moments to backfire spectacularly. It’s designed to showcase the characters at their most vulnerable, with Hardy acting as their heroic figure. Still, Hirani takes a much longer time in approaching the story than he did in a film like 3 Idiots, where he immediately sets the tone from its opening scene and never lets up from there, finding a perfect balance between side-splitting comedy and massive amounts of heart in its core story. 

However, the aforementioned Kaushal scene is the catalyst for the events that cause Hardy to accompany Manu (Taapsee Pannu), Balli (Anil Grover), and Buggu (Vikram Kochhar) on the Dunki, with a few other residents of the town who long for a more hopeful life in London. And that’s where the movie begins to reveal itself as a powerful piece of work from Hirani and SRK’s best dramatic performance since My Name Is Khan

Funnily enough, ever since that movie, Khan has been keen on examining his façade in the public eye through the artifice of cinema more than he did in his anti-hero and romantic eras. In my opinion, SRK’s self-reflexive era has been his most artistically interesting, even if the released films weren’t particularly acclaimed or perfect. In Sharma’s Fan, Khan took the dual role of the movie star and the (de-aged) obsessive admirer, fully examining his stardom’s effects on the masses and how he deals with an ever-growing (and ever-raging) fanbase. Just look at how some of his stan accounts create social media campaigns to posit Prashanth Neel’s Salaar: Part One – Ceasefire (which stars one of India’s biggest actors, Prabhas, and opened on the same day as Dunki) as an unmitigated disaster and encourage audiences to support Dunki instead (the Prabhas fanbase is doing the same with the hashtag #DunkiDisaster). No wonder why some didn’t like it. 

Even his worst film, Zero, saw Khan attempt to examine himself through a different lens by using CGI (and de-aging, once again) to shrink himself and play a dwarf. The results were disastrous and saw the biggest box office bomb of his entire career. But that didn’t stop him from being less introspective, as his last film, Jawan, was probably his most self-reflexive effort yet, operating as a “Greatest Hits” vehicle of some of his best attributes as an action star, romantic star, anti-hero, and dramatic powerhouse, while also directly calling out the institutions of power for their inaction at getting things done and asking audiences to reflect on their vote before casting it. It’s perhaps the gutsiest thing he ever did, but no one else would’ve dared to say what he said. That’s why he did it. 

Khan doesn’t owe anyone anything. He’s already on the top. He had to reclaim his throne after Zero, but once Pathaan obliterated box office records (with Jawan following suit), he was back on it as if he had never left. That’s why he continues to examine himself through different iterations of Hardy, from the charming (de-aged) young boy arriving in Punjab to repay a debt to the soldier leading the gang to London and the older, gruff Hardy looking to reunite with his friends to bring them home. There’s a bit of jingoism in his portrayal(s) of the same character through different eras, especially during a scene where he pleads to a judge on granting asylum by attempting to convince him that the system is the cause of their woes and not their country. 

He’s not entirely wrong. The system in place is forcing many immigrants to cross borders illegally because it grants visas based on their academic and professional experience, leaving many lower-class people to resort to extreme measures for a better life, putting their safety and future at risk, but the ones in power who rule the country put these laws in place, which creates the system. That’s where Hirani inserts a montage of real images of migrants illegally crossing the border, which are too disturbing to describe here. 

But his approach feels oddly manipulative, just like when Alejandro Gómez Monteverde’s Sound of Freedom used real-life footage of children being kidnapped, not in an attempt to raise awareness, but to add dramatic tension into the romanticized tellings of Tim Ballard’s (Jim Caviezel) raid. The use of real-life footage in Dunki happens after a pivotal scene, where Hardy reunites with Manu for the first time in twenty-five years. While the scene itself is emotionally devastating, the cut to black into text that showcases the real problem of the migrant crisis feels unnecessarily disingenuous because the audience is already crying. It’s as if Hirani chose this specific moment to make audiences cry more because the problem is real, instead of raising awareness within the film’s diegesis or through the figure of SRK, who knows how to make audiences care about things he feels are personal to him. 

Unexpectedly, SRK’s acting is phenomenal. His various monologues are impassioned, but using his eyes is the most impressive thing about his versatility, especially in this film. The torment he feels after saving Manu’s life from one of the film’s most difficult scenes is a look that will stay with me for a long time, or the realization that the two will be separated for the next two decades is another facial expression that only the ageless presence of Shah Rukh Khan could ever pull off. He shares magnifying chemistry with Pannu, who gives the most moving turn of her career in a role wrought with so much emotional complexity that she’s bound to eventually break all of our hearts (which she does in many sequences). 

But it’s ultimately because Khan posits himself as an actor who keeps rethinking how he approaches his multiple façades on the screen that makes Dunki worth a watch. Lord knows if his next roles will adopt the same posture he did with Jawan and Dunki, as he recently teased wanting to play an “age-real” character. He is, after all, nearing 60, but still looks as charming as he did when he charmed all of our hearts in Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge. Still, I’ll be here to watch whatever he does next, no matter what type of film it will be because he is one of the few actors who can still sell a film just by being in it. No one has that kind of pull in Hollywood nowadays. 

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Rebel Moon: Part One – A Child of Fire’ is Ridiculous But Still Fun


Director: Zack Snyder
Writers: Zack Snyder, Kurt Johnstad, Shay Hatten
Stars: Sofia Boutella, Charlie Hunnam, Anthony Hopkins, Dijmon Hounsou

Synopsis: When a peaceful settlement on the edge of a distant moon finds itself threatened by the armies of a tyrannical ruling force, a mysterious stranger living among its villagers becomes their best hope for survival.


Zack Snyder is a singular filmmaker. This is not necessarily a compliment or an insult, a Snyder movie is its own beast. It is also legitimately impossible to walk into a Snyder movie without any preconceived notions. His film, and his ardent fans, precede him. But that’s not completely his fault. He has a style all his own and if that’s the kind of thing you want, you will be mostly pleased every time you see a Snyder flick. And the opposite is true, as well. If you have not enjoyed his work in the past, that is not likely to change. And that brings us to Rebel Moon: Part One – A Child of Fire, and it is exactly what you might expect for better or worse.

The plot, such as it is, follows Kora (Sofia Boutella) and her adopted people, who tend to be peaceful farmers. But this is a Star Wars story– wait, no, not officially.  But there is an evil empire at work called The Motherworld and the Imperium soldiers have arrived in order to stop a, you guessed it, burgeoning rebellion on the smaller worlds in the realm. Atticus Noble (Ed Skrein) leads this violent away party, which leads to Kora and her compatriot, Gunnar (Michael Huisman) on a quest to gather a small army to defend their land. 

This all may sound familiar, and it very much is. A bit of Star Wars, a lot of Seven Samurai/The Magnificent Seven, but really, do we watch a Zack Snyder film for big ideas? Maybe I’m grading on a curve here, but despite slow moments and a vast amount of unoriginality, it was still mostly fun. As expected, there is fun action (with too much slow-motion), simplistic but archetypal ideas and characters, and nearly winking villainy. Depth is not here at all, but big screen moments (sad this had almost no release) abound.

I won’t go into massive detail about more plot points, but rest assured, a small army will be gathered and the movie will end before anything major gets accomplished, it is a Part One in every conceivable way. Most of the time in this film is spent providing an insane amount of plot and world exposition, as well as much needed background on Kora. Sofia Boutella, an underused actress, is given the majority of this exposition, and does an admirable job. It can be tough, especially within the realm of science fiction and fantasy, to do this and remain a likable character. This is even more true given her convoluted and difficult to like backstory.

But don’t worry, it is not all talking, as Snyder continues to know where his bread is buttered. He knows he has a secret weapon in Boutella, with the ability to perform physically (as in Atomic Blonde), paired with the ability to pull off haunted and torn between defending the weak and just leaving to save her own skin. The physicality is well performed and helps us make sense out of who to root for as she defends her people against cartoonish evil. As a note, Ed Skrein is having an absolute blast playing his hideous character. It is always a pleasure when an actor knows exactly what kind of movie he is in.

The problems with this film come, when slowly, and I do mean slowly gathering the team of warriors to eventually fight back in the sequel. Many actors are gathered, including a very game Charlie Hunnam, Djimon Hounsou, Ray Fisher, and Staz Nair. Nair may have the biggest moment in the film featuring a ton of very enjoyable CGI and a solid revenge beat the actually work. I’m not sure the rest of the revenge angle works (especially with Hounsou), but again, this is a simple movie with simple beats.  There is a great deal of hand waving and “just go along with it” that the audience must get past and, as always, your mileage may vary.

In the end, Rebel Moon: Part One – A Child of Fire is ridiculous, unoriginal, and stereotypical. But also? There is a lot of fun to be had, especially if someone can Jedi mindtrick you into forgetting you knew anything about Star Wars. But hey, this movie features a fight sequence in which Jena Malone’s head is superimposed on a spider’s body.  If you can’t have any fun with that, I’m honestly not sure what to tell you.

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘The Teachers’ Lounge’ Is a Deeply Unnerving Character Drama


Director: Ilker Çatak
Writers: Johannes Duncker and Ilker Çatak
Stars: Leonie Benensch, Leonard Stettnisch, and Eva Löbau

Synopsis: When one of her students is suspected of theft, teacher Carla Nowak decides to get to the bottom of the matter. Caught between her ideals and the school system, the consequences of her actions threaten to break her.


Ilker Çatak’s The Teacher’s Lounge has already been compared to Justine Triet’s Anatomy of a Fall, and with good reason. Both films observe their core protagonist and let the audience judge what they are seeing and hearing so they can ultimately come to their conclusions based on what they think is the recollection of the facts. The protagonist is also an incredibly unreliable narrator whose true nature is just waiting to be revealed in front of the students and parents, making us unable to trust her (and other side characters) at every turn. It also ends with no legitimate answers to anything that has been presented on screen, entirely depending on the audience’s intelligence to fill in the purposeful gaps in storytelling to figure out if Ms. Nowak’s (Leonie Benensch) money was genuinely stolen by Ms. Kuhn (Eva Löbau). 

That is the core of the story, in an elementary school in Germany, a series of petty thefts have been occurring regularly, and the school board is determined to get to the bottom of the problem and find out who has been stealing, which includes frisking the students during class and ganging up to interrogate them. Ms. Nowak does not approve of these techniques but has no choice but to acquiesce with the board’s demands to figure out who has been stealing. One day, she arrives with a large sum of money, which she puts in her wallet and opens her laptop to record the teachers’ lounge, perhaps catching the thief in the act while she is in class. 

When she returns, she finds out that her money has been stolen and watches the video to see who did it. We see the fabric of Ms. Kuhn’s shirt reaching her coat pocket but do not see her stealing her money. When confronted with these allegations and the video, Ms. Kuhn vehemently denies all wrongdoing but is suspended pending a police investigation. This begins to cause great strife between Ms. Nowak and Oskar (Leonard Stettnisch), Ms. Kuhn’s son, who is a student in Ms. Nowak’s class. He begins to not listen to her, with his behavior becoming more erratic and violent in an attempt to get her to admit the truth. 

But what “truth” is it? That Ms. Kuhn didn’t steal Carla’s money? That Ms. Nowak is a liar and has been abusing her authority as a professor to see a financially precarious woman lose her job? Çatak is unconcerned with the binary definition of “truth” and instead prefers that audiences come up with what they believe is the “truth” after seeing Ms. Nowak’s anxiety-ridden plight in attempting to make it up towards her students while everyone slowly turns on her. 

One of the film’s key sequences that exposes this exploration of “truth” and “lies” occurs when Ms. Nowak is invited to speak in the school’s newspaper for a profile. What looked to be a simple, innocuous interview is turned into a cross-examination of each one of Ms. Nowak’s alleged “lies” towards Ms. Kuhn, which she attempts to debunk unsuccessfully. By neither confirming nor denying events that may or may not occur and playing the neutral card, a puff piece is written and published in the newspaper that completely twists Nowak’s non-answers to a scathing indictment of her approach to dealing with the situation. When she confronts the students who wrote the article, the editor-in-chief says, “Truth overcomes all bonds. Everything else is just PR.”

And what has Carla been doing in an attempt to defuse the situation? Speak with the board on how to handle it. “How to handle it” sounds awfully like PR to me. As she gets confronted by the student’s parents during a meeting, she regurgitates the same PR-driven answers she is tasked to give to appease concerns but doesn’t say much, which causes the doubt that parents have about the fitness and professionalism of Ms. Nowak to linger. What’s more interesting about this entire set-up is that we are looking at the story through Ms. Nowak’s point of view: there’s never a moment in which the camera cuts to someone else or sees other perspectives for a more balanced version of the “truth.”

Because of this, the story has plenty of missing pieces, including the parents, who are ganging up against her in a WhatsApp group chat to have her removed from the school. We don’t know this is even happening until one of the parents mentions it to her on a phone call, highlighting the viciousness of messages about her regarding her pedagogy and demeanor. And yet, this happens regularly – parents unquestioningly believing everything their kids say and not the one who allegedly exercises power over them by attributing them grades and evaluating their knowledge. However, Ms. Nowak is no saint, and her consistent unreliability in telling the truth, or at least not sugarcoating the seriousness of her accusations against Ms. Kuhn, ultimately stains her reputation as a professor whose power over the students gets flipped in ways she couldn’t imagine. 

As the tension continuously mounts in unspeakable dread, with the 4:3 aspect ratio aiding to box Ms. Nowak into a state of pure claustrophobia from beginning to end, the last act of The Teachers’ Lounge grows more violent and brutal, with Carla now having to face her inner demons and warped versions of what she believes is the “truth” while grappling with her mistakes. These deeply unnerving moments are wonderfully anchored by a towering performance from Leonie Benesch, whose psychological torment is intensely felt as soon as the movie turns what she believes is the “truth” against her. 

A supporting performance from Löbau is excellent, but the real star of the picture is Stettnisch’s Oskar, whose emotional complexity devastates when he can’t handle the boiling anger inside of him and lashes out against everyone who seemingly takes Ms. Nowak’s side. It’s a hauntingly tragic portrayal of a bright student spiraling into darkness and despair once everyone spreads gossip about him and his mother. At the same time, his academic role model (Ms. Nowak) is responsible for the diffusion of these rumors. 

What do you do when your mother – the person you love the most in the world – is accused of something by the person who ultimately determines your fate in the academic sphere? Oskar’s moral choices aren’t easy, and his path progressively grows into something no one should ever experience. But since Çatak is unconcerned with the binary definition of the “truth,” he directly shows what multiple versions of that “truth” decidedly twist many characters’ personalities and emotional underpinnings. It’s one of the most challenging movies that you’ll watch this year because it keeps following a purely distrustful protagonist but one that asks you to take all preconceptions aside and form your own truth based on what you’ve seen and heard. It won’t be easy to draw conclusions and pick all of the pieces together, but one won’t be the same after entering The Teachers’ Lounge

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Godzilla Minus One’ Balances the Human and the Kaiju


Director: Takashi Yamazaki
Writer: Takashi Yamazaki
Stars: Minami Hamabe, Ryunosuke Kamiki, Sakura Ando

Synopsis: Post war Japan is at its lowest point when a new crisis emerges in the form of a giant monster, baptized in the horrific power of the atomic bomb.


Godzilla Minus One may have Godzilla in the title, but it’s more human than most Kaiju movies released today.  Director, screenwriter, and visual effects supervisor Takashi Yamazaki has created a film about finding something to live for. The film’s budget is estimated to be less than $15 million USD, and yet it manages to feel like the biggest blockbuster of the year.

Godzilla Minus One follows the story of Koichi Shikishima (Ryunosuke Kamiki), a failed kamikaze pilot who fakes technical failures and lands his plane on Odo Island. That night, the Odo army base encounters Godzilla – and Shikishima freezes up behind the 30 mm guns on his plane, leading to the deaths of everyone at the base, aside from the lead mechanic, Sosaku Tachibana (Munetaka Aoki). This is the first encounter Shikishima has with Godzilla, who will haunt Tokyo and Shikishima for the next 3 years after Shikishima physically returns from the war.

The majority of the film takes place over those three years – three years of Japan attempting to rebuild itself after nuclear devastation. In these years, Shikishima must find something to live for, and wrestles with his decision to flee combat and return to a home without any family. In that way, Godzilla Minus One reminds me of Cowboy Bebop – it’s acutely about reconciling with your past and the people who come alongside you for that journey.

This isn’t to say that Godzilla is solely the catalyst of the film – the kaiju is a constant presence in the film – a reminder that Shikishima’s war isn’t over yet; the physical manifestation of the guilt he carries in living each day. When Godzilla reappears, it carries a looming threat of destruction unlike any other movie – because you care about the humans at the core of this film.

Shikashima’s found family of co-workers and strays who never left makes this monster movie mean everything. Godzilla Minus One has the appearance of a blockbuster and yet it manages to punch far above its weight class because of its very human emotions and stakes.

I’ve spoken at length about our protagonist, Shikishima, who is brought to life by Ryunosuke Kamiki. Ryunosuke leans into the weary, conflicted side of Shikishima, in both his vocal and physical performance. The physical performance is occasionally purposefully stilted – closed off, as is our protagonist – and yet, it is at odds with what Shikishima says and does. It adds depth to his character, accentuating the conflict within, and creates a powerful third act when Shikishima is given the opportunity to choose who he wants to be. And when that closed off, carefully composed side of Ryunosuke’s performance breaks, it makes the vulnerability feel even more real.

Adding more emotional weight is Minami Hamabe, in the role of Noriko Oishi. Noriko is another orphan of the war, and has short-sightedly taken in an infant, Akiko, whose mother has passed away. Fate allows Noriko and Shikishima paths to cross, and they begin to form a found family centered on taking care of Akiko. Minami’s performance is fundamental to the film, as her body language speaks to the yearning for a deeper relationship with Shikishima, despite the dialogue that keeps things professional and distanced.

The entire supporting cast adds to this film expertly. The young Shirō Mizushima (Yuki Yamada) may have been too young for the war, but his youthful energy and patriotic spirit is enamored with fighting for his country. Yuki brings that energy to every part of the dialogue, and it contrasts the older, more poignant work of Hidetaka Yoshioka (as Kenji Noda) and Kuranosuke Sasaki (as Seiji Akitsu, captain of the Shinsei Maru). Hidetaka is uplifting as the optimistic Kenji, a formal naval weapons engineer who now works as a minesweeper. That optimism lends itself well to a Godzilla movie – Kenji is astonished by Godzilla, despite its terrific power. As for Captain Seiji, Kuranosuke leans into the mentor role, and pushes our timid protagonist to move forward in life despite the weight Shikishima carries. 


Of course, when speaking of Godzilla movies, it is expected to discuss the quality of the visual effects and the role of the leading kaiju. Symbolically, Godzilla is at his prime in this film – much like Vicious in Cowboy Bebop, Godzilla is the perfect haunt for our conflicted Shikishima. However, Godzilla’s utility extends beyond the metaphor – Godzilla is massive and destructive and threatens to destroy what little was left of Japan in the wake of World War II. It’s the name of the film after all. Godzilla Minus One has some of the best visual effects work of the year, and these were handled by the Japanese Visual Effects Studio Shirogumi. Every part of Godzilla is made with a passion for the character – whether it’s the lizard-adjacent model for the Kaiju or the ways Godzilla interacts with the world around him. When Godzilla steps into Tokyo, buildings are knocked over by his tail, streets are crushed under his weight, leading to a larger than life monster who doesn’t feel like computer magic. Add in a finale that takes place at sea, and these dynamic, simulated environments feel more real than the kaiju itself. For a film of this budget, it’s astonishing work that deserves to be celebrated more than ever before. The entire visual effects team, led by VFX supervisor Takashi Yamazaki, CG supervisor Masaki Takahashi, and Modeling Supervisor Eiji Kitada, have created something phenomenal that will be remembered.

All of these visual effects are accompanied by stellar sound design from an equally small team: foley artist Natsuko Inoue and sound recordist Hisafumi Takeuchi give Godzilla the auditory scale it deserves. A kaiju is only as fearsome as the roars it bellows, and Godzilla’s roars are deservedly uncanny and terrifying. Amidst the industrial sounds of trains, canons, gunfire and air raid sirens, Godzilla is sonically primordial.

This is furthered by Naoki Satô’s score for the film. Much like Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’s score for The Killer, Naoki uses the score of Godzilla Minus One to imbue each scene with its environmental sound stage. Only when Godzilla appears does the orchestra fully take the front stage – before then, the horns section feels subdued to make way for the haunting strings that set the scene.

Godzilla Minus One is a tremendous success from Takashi Yamazaki – and it’s more than worthy of the big screen. It’s delightfully human, and both its heart and its setpieces are massive. Its message of finding something to live for is uplifting, and from a technical level, Godzilla Minus One punches far above its weight class.

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Occupied City’ is an Illuminating History Lesson


Director: Steve McQueen
Writer: Bianca Stigter
Star: Melanie Hyams

Synopsis: The past collides with the present in this excavation of the Nazi occupation of Amsterdam: a journey from World War II to recent years of pandemic and protest and a provocative, life-affirming reflection on memory, time and what’s to come.


A year before his upcoming World War II film Blitz, Oscar-winning director Steve McQueen presents his four-plus hour documentary about life in Nazi-occupied Netherlands. However, it is not made up of archive footage, photos, or testimony from those who survived and resisted. Instead, McQueen presents it as a modern travelogue of all the key places where they were, whether the buildings remain standing or not. It’s a unique approach to telling the story, relying on his camera to capture its current occupants during their daily life in modern-day Amsterdam. Moreover, McQueen collaborates with his partner, Bianca Stiger, who wrote the illustrated book, “Atlas Of An Occupied City (Amsterdam 1940-1945),” which the film is based on.

Juxtaposed with this are the recent events in the city in 2020 and 2021 with the COVID lockdown and protests taking place opposing it, as well as other local stories such as the murder of a journalist. They happen in the same places where Nazi officers and citizens walked through during a more harsh period eight years ago. Also, Amsterdam’s multicultural background with immigrants from Africa and the Middle East are also seen, a total contrast to what the Nazis believed in their view of Aryan supremacy. They now live on the streets where the Nazis sought to clear out unwanted citizens, namely Jews, as well as Romani people and those who dare fight back.

A narrator (Melanie Hyams) tells the stories of what happened in these buildings, standing or demolished, but it isn’t engaging and some may understandably quit after ninety minutes. Four hours is a major challenge for anyone to watch when it consists of modern-day images and simple narration with no drama to it. Shoah (all 9 hours of it) has more drama because of its testimony from those who were still alive in the 1970s and 80s, but McQueen was probably not considering making it dramatic. It is meant to be anecdotal and points out that these places, if walls could talk, have a major story to say about this terrible era. 

The horror outside of concentration camps can feel even harsher than what’s in it, which is why it feels so timely for A24 to release both Occupied City and Johnathan Glazer’s The Zone of Interest, set outside Auschwitz. There is no need to see any images of killing. Just being told how the Nazis ran their business with ruthless cops and informants is horrible enough. The only Nazi story associated with the Netherlands people know is Anne Frank. Amsterdam, and other major cities occupied by the Nazis, were also badly affected by the ruthlessness of Germany’s killing machine. It is mentioned in the documentary about the Hunger Famine in late 1944-early 1945 when the citizens, realizing they were about to be liberated, saw officials cut off food supplies to starve the population. Also, when any Nazi officer was killed, people would be randomly picked out and shot in front of a public forced to watch their execution. 

 
The monotone feel of going place to place will be a turnoff to a lot of viewers, but those who are highly interested in World War II history may find themselves intrigued to watch all of it. There is an intermission after 2 hours, which gives us breathing space in taking in what has been seen and heard. Probably, it would have been better to not go through every place mentioned (his first version, going block-by-block, is 36 hours) and go to a straightforward 2 hour documentary on the most important places, but McQueen didn’t make this for the general public. It’s for those who are very interested in these details where history stands among us as life goes on normally. In the end, Occupied City does come full circle to refer to the fact that it was the Jewish population who was targeted, that memorials for them still stand, and that Jewish life remains active in Amsterdam regardless of the Nazi attempt to obliterate it from the world.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Perfect Days’ is a Reminder to Appreciate


Director: Wim Wenders
Writers: Takuma Takasaki and Wim Wenders
Stars: Koji Yakusho, Tokio Emoto, Arisa Nakano

Synopsis: A janitor in Japan drives between jobs listening to rock music.


Wim Wenders welcomed two films into his oeuvre in 2023. The first one is a documentary, Anselm, about the life and achievements of artist Anselm Kiefer. Ironically enough, he also jokingly referred to the second, a fictional film titled Perfect Days, as a documentary work. In many ways, it’s understandable to make the claim. The film follows the quiet Hirayama (Koji Yakusho), a man who cleans public toilets in Tokyo. Through a magnificently internal performance by Yakusho, it’s clear that Hirayama has held this position for quite some time. His morning ritual, however mundane, borders on ritualistic. Yet, every time he takes a step out of the door, he shines a smile to the sky above. With a proud attention to detail, he treats each cleaning job with the same level of rigor and care. His subordinate, a young adult more interested in his phone, makes it clear that he doesn’t have to take his job so seriously. Yet Hirayama has clearly been at this for quite some time, and seems to enjoy that routine day in and day out. And it’s in this routine that the beauty of Wenders’ film reveals itself.

The rut of the routine. It’s something that many people often feel trapped within. Sometimes it can be a dreadful commute, or the simple thought of not having enough time in one’s day after the responsibilities of life. Whatever the case may be, more often than not, it can be understandably draining. To yearn for something different, and hopefully better, is wholly understandable. But watching Perfect Days, it feels as if Wenders’ film insists that we look on the brighter side for even a moment. Personally, it’s the exact type of film that encourages us to try and be better. A large part of that relies on the confidently slow direction. But the entire crux of the film falls right on the shoulders of Yakusho’s performance, one which deservedly won Best Actor at Cannes this past year. 

The first hour of the film essentially boils down to sequencing that’s clearly inspired by Chantal Akerman’s film, Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles. While Hirayama has certainly held and excelled at this job for a while, he seems deeply content. And although it may beckon the viewer to wonder just how he ended up in the position he finds himself in, more likely than not, it doesn’t really matter. What does matter is that Hirayama serves as a vessel through which the audience can make better sense of the world around us. And it sure helps that Hirayama seems to be a beloved member of his community, even if we get the sense that most of the people he interacts with don’t know much about him. Some might begin to wonder if Hirayama is deeply lonely, but the performance on display does an astonishing job at hiding any such emotion. To internalize one’s loneliness can be a dangerous decision, but if it’s the product of doing something we love, Perfect Days questions whether or not such a decision is the correct one. And it’s here that Perfect Days fully transforms into a mirror for the audience to reflect rather than strictly cinematic storytelling.

Speaking from personal experience as a New Yorker who has commuted nearly his entire young adult and adult life, it can be deeply mundane. And that’s on the best of days. Mass transit in New York can often be an absolute nightmare, and what feels like facing an uphill battle every morning and late afternoon takes a toll both mentally and physically. Paired alongside hobbies and personal responsibilities, the idea that we spend more time working and sleeping than we do actually enjoying life begins to feel more and more like a startling reality; And it’s one that feels inescapable. So what do we do? Perfect Days asks us to look for the beauty that’s not even hidden. In fact, it’s right there in plain sight. Hirayama even goes so far as to abstractly capture it with a small camera. Boxes full of photos and stocked shelves in his small home are evidence of a life well-lived. Many of the photographs he’s taken, and not ripped up upon development, are stored in labeled boxes stacked high and deeply. His shelves are lined with rows upon rows of cheap, yet impactful, novels and unassuming, yet rare, cassette tapes. His home is indicative of a man who lives in the world of analog. By that, I mean to say he lives in a world where tangible items appear to make the most sense. To him, Spotify is a deeply foreign concept. So the fact that Hirayama is still able to find so much energy to push forward based purely off the intangibles of his life is inspiring.


In the moments we feel most lost, Perfect Days displays some simple, yet effective, exercises as a reminder to cherish the path we’re taking. Hirayama occasionally sees a familiar face, but he also encounters countless strangers for brief moments. And it’s impossible to deny his wondering of what the lives they lead must be like. One of the most delightful films of the year doesn’t ever shy away from the hidden stories within all of us. Wenders’ film captures the notion that whether or not others realize we impact each other in a myriad of ways, our impact is absorbed and accepted on a subconscious level. We’re all here, living our own stories and lives full of memories, emotions, and more. And should we happen to cross the path of another, even if for a moment, perhaps we should follow the path in front of us and see where it leads. That exciting mystery, the idea that anything could happen any day we wake up, is what Perfect Days so silently captures; and it’s pure bliss.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘The Color Purple’ Fades Too Quickly


Director: Blitz Bazawule
Writers: Marcus Gardley
Stars: Fantasia Barrino, Danielle Brooks, Colman Domingo, Taraji P. Henson

Synopsis: A decades-spanning tale of love and resilience and of one woman’s journey to independence. Celie faces many hardships in her life, but ultimately finds extraordinary strength and hope in the unbreakable bonds of sisterhood.


Sometimes, talent is not enough to amount to greatness. In the new musical update to The Color Purple, there is no getting around the fact that great talent is on display. There are positives in performance, singing, dancing, and directing.  And yet, it just never seems to fully come together, despite the best efforts of the cast. That is not to say that it is not worth watching, but one can’t help but wonder if some minor changes could lead it to greatness, as it has achieved on both the page and the stage.

The Color Purple, as many are aware of, follows Celie (Fantasia Barrino) through her many difficulties, trials, and abuses of her life, with a few shining successes scattered throughout. Although there are some minor scenes unconnected to her, most everyone who comes in contact with her is basically only shown in their interactions with her, so she is tasked with connections to any and everyone. Sadly, this seems beyond Barrino. She is better than expected from an acting skill perspective, but the film ultimately fails in building these connections fully. Whether it is her true and powerful connection with her sister, Nette (Halle Bailey) or her supposed love of Shug Avery (Taraji P. Henson), it all falls just short. These relationships are still interesting, even engaging, but never quite reach the heights that they should. However, it should be noted that Barrino’s vocal talents are on heavy display to the benefit of the audience.

The glory of this film belongs to the truly supporting character of Sofia (Danielle Brooks), Celie’s daughter-in-law. Brooks is an absolute powerhouse, both in her singing and acting. She is the one who stands out emotionally, as well as managing most of the show-stopping numbers. In “Hell No”, she is unleashed and also provides a powerful counterpoint to Celie and her growth throughout the film. Also of note, much of the choreography is a joy to watch, full of attitude, swagger, and style. 

Directorially, there is truly a mixed bag from Blitz Bazawule. In terms of shot choices, energy, and movement, there are very few flaws or missteps, even if he struggles a bit showing us the passage of time. Some standout moments include a shot of Celie walking on a giant record, showing her wonder at and admiration for Shug, and the second hand experience of her sister in Africa. Bazawule clearly understands the material and is able to place his actors in positions to reach the emotions necessary. However, The Color Purple never reaches those moments due to lack of chemistry, or at least the kind of chemistry necessary for the piece. Importantly, in Celie’s big moment, “I’m Here”, several unfortunate choices are made. Barrino, as is her habit, covers her face consistently while singing. Additionally, when one hand is raised, the camera always seems to be on that side, instead of the opposite, illuminating her face. It is really a shame, as Barrino’s performance is quite good and should have pulled more emotion than it did. 

The Color Purple, although it falls short in several areas, still amounts to a worthy addition to the canon of movie musicals. There are numerous numbers that are memorable, energetic, and catchy. The real fault is the lack of pure emotion and connection that is present in both the stage musical and the original film from 1985. Of course, emotion is fickle, and some viewers may be swept up momentarily, but I have my doubts that it will be anywhere near as lasting as either that original film, or even other movie musicals of this time period. The Color Purple is a story of great depth which should stay with you. Sadly, this new version, besides the wonderful Danielle Brooks, fades from the memory much too quickly.

Grade: B-

Interview with Music Editor Yuri Gorbachow

Music editor Yuri Gorbachow has been a veritable mainstay in the music editing industry since the early 1990s. During that time, he has worked on hit television series such as The Handmaid’s Tale and Vikings. He puts this extraordinary success down to his unique creative process, which sets him apart from others in the field and allows him to develop strong creative partnerships with composers. He recently completed work on the production of the third season of Vikings: Valhalla and kindly provided us with the chance to delve into the twists and turns that fans can look forward to. 

Zita Short had the opportunity to sit down with Gorbachow and discuss his lengthy and storied career in the music editing field. 

Zita Short: For the average layman, the music editing discipline appears somewhat mysterious and unknowable. Despite the fact that it plays a hugely significant role in weaving together music and visual content, those outside of the film industry may only have a faint notion of what the job entails. Would you mind walking me through the role that music editors play in the creative process? 

Yuri Gorbachow: Of course. I I like to break the music editing process down into two categories. Number one is working with the composer on the front end and that involves the music, spotting sessions, making some detailed notes and then being able to provide click tracks. Although that doesn’t happen very much anymore, building record sessions in advance and also attending the scoring stage and making sure that things stay in sync that that had been planned. 

This is all kind of the front end work and I’d say that a lot of it is being absorbed now by other departments. For example, scoring is now its own little module and composers rarely attend their own scoring sessions. They’ll sit in with some kind of streaming system but many of them get very confident and they can just let the live music get recorded. So, in a way,  the sessions are already built. They can be built by somebody else. I certainly haven’t attended a live scoring date in a long time. That front end is essentially making sure we get a good idea of what has to happen and then being able to make very meticulous notes. As well as giving the composer a good guide to what it is that they need to do.

So, the second part I call working with the composer on the back end. That is once they’ve written the music; they’ll send what would be called a first draft to me. Then from there I can make presentations, we can get revised notes, we can work on the revisions. The composer delivers that to me. I get it off to the music stage, right to the mix stage. There’s lots of revisions that happen on the dub stage, so I’ll handle that. And then there’s versioning. What else? Queue sheets, deliverables. There’s also building a library because in television series work, we want to make sure we get to use a queue over again, right?

We don’t want to overuse it, but we certainly want it available, especially when it’s in the memory of people like the directors, exec producers who’ve heard it. So I’ll make sure that it’s properly described so we can find it very quickly. Who knows? It might be the perfect piece of music to use down an episode or two.

Zita Short: How does one break into the music editing industry? Was it difficult to get your start in a highly competitive field? 

Yuri Gorbachow: I don’t think it was that competitive when I started. It’s been a while. I was an assistant engineer at a music studio and we were going through an economic downturn and the owner decided we better find something else to do and they broke into a little bit of audio post. So I was working on a particular TV series. I was just an assistant and my colleague was actually doing the session. He was working with a composer who had written 150 pieces of music out to commercial. 

So the job was to lay up the music onto the multi-track system and prepare the music so that it fit the visuals. So essentially we were working with quarter inch tape. We would lay it up on our machine and trip it through the console and on to tape. Then we would just repeat creatively and the show would be finished and usually we could do it in one day. So by 4PM we had clients come in, they’d review the music and say “OK, let’s change this cue,” or “is this all good?” and we would go to the mix on that. 

For me, my client and my colleague were working together on that every Friday morning. One Friday morning, my colleague’s wife went into labor and she was off to hospital and so was so was Frank (colleague). So the client, the composer, had said “listen, I don’t want to lose the day. I’ve watched Yuri work, I see him prepare the sessions, he lays in the opening and closing credits and he and he gets ready for the session. I’d be willing to work with him for this day.” So I got the call to to sit in the chair and to lay up the music. It was the same thing, just trip it in from the quarter inch tapes and we did a good enough job done in just the same amount of time. 

I loved it and that was kind of the beginning of the end of my assistant days. So Fridays I was a music editor, Tuesday I became a music editor and then Monday, Wednesday and Thursday I was an assistant. I kept the place nice and tidy and made sure everything worked and that type of stuff. So that’s how I got into it. I think it’s based around need and any post-production shop that’s dealing with editing and mixing knows that they have to do dialogue work and sound effects and foley and all of this requires editing. 

So it’s not unusual that the music would need to be edited as well and so you should have someone on staff. So either that can happen as you hire someone on staff or you work with a mentor-protege model and that way you can work with a mentor who has their own business. I’ve been in business, self-employed, since 1992, so that’s kind of what I do. I go after music editing jobs. People know me as a music editor and they would hire me as a music editor to do that which needs to be done.

Zita Short: Do you feel as though the industry has gone through dramatic changes over the past few decades? 

Yuri Gorbachow: You know, in the mid-1980s we were still in Sprockets, television was still being done with Magstock Magfilm and it was cut with a razor blade. In the mid-1980s towards the 1990s, there was a kind of tape lock phenomenon where we had simple time codes and we were striping these multi track tapes. We were basically borrowing from the music industry. What they would use normally to make albums with were able to use in order to stripe the time code, lock it to videotape and then run with with tape lock. So it was a bit of a hybrid situation and then that was kind of in the early 2000s that Pro Tools became robust. Computing power became a little bit more in time and we’ve been working with Pro Tools as a mixing medium, as a playback editing medium, since probably the mid-2000s. 

If I have a beautiful time compressor expander, right to be able to manipulate music, a good reverb unit…all of these things are just top notch now. It’s a joy to watch and in some ways it makes it a little easier but then there are more little things to be taken care of. So it’s a fair amount of work but it’s still quite a compelling career to be in. I love the puzzle of music editing and I love it when some of these things that really aren’t supposed to happen, or at least they didn’t happen back in the day, are now happening. I’m just so happy to solve them.

Zita Short: As part of the post-production process, you also mix audio in your studio. Can you provide us with any insight into the sort of work environment that exists within the studio and the problems that typically arise when you go through the mixing process? 

Yuri Gorbachow: So…the mixing process. I don’t know about other music editors, but I used to, you know, work in that facility. I started from the back and worked my way up. So I was an assistant engineer. I was doing restripes from what were called laybacks. Then I found myself in the assistant mix chair and then worked my way back into editing the music. I have been a re-recording mixer and was for a good decade. I still jump into the chair whenever possible and I don’t know if that helped in this particular situation. 

In music editorial, with the composers that I work with, they’ll send me what I consider to be their first draft. This happens about a week before the dub. My job is to get it prepared for presentation. What do we do with this music? Well, we have to send it out and see what people think. So what I do is I take a couple of hours and I mix it. I work with the dialogues, make sure every word can be heard, get some of the sound effects out of the way, make sure the music is just coming in beautifully and leaving. Then I send it out for a presentation. What I have found is that the fewer revision notes that come in, the better. With an unpolished first mix you might not get a lot of feedback. With asolid mix it’s like a little temporary mix. It’s a final mix but for a very small group of people. If the cue truly needs to be revised, those notes will be focused on that. I I love the idea of having less revised notes. The composers love it. They then do the revisions and they send me that second draft, which I can then take to the dubbing stage.

Zita Short: One also imagines that this is a highly collaborative role that requires a lot of give-and-take on the part of the music editor. You’ve worked with several notable composers, including Trevor Morris and Adam Taylor. How have those creative partnerships developed and evolved over the years? 

Yuri Gorbachow: Trevor and I have worked together for going on 17 years now. At first it was kind of like I was assigned to him. That’s kind of how it works. I don’t normally work for composers. I’m hired by the production company to represent their editorial needs. So when I’m assigned to a composer we get together and we just look at what it is that we need to do. Trevor and I just knew what needed to be done in 2006. The show came along and he was able to drop off the queues. I did what I needed to do, which was to get notes to him, and we kind of sorted things out. We were able to get a bigger workflow.

First there was The Tudors and then came The Borgias, we also had a little ATV series called Condor, which is basically a second season. Then we ended up doing Vikings and then, 9 years later, Vikings: Valhalla. It’s been such a great gig and I’m sorry to see it come to an end. That working relationship was kind of based on mutual respect. We knew what needed to be done. I could sit back when Trevor needed to collaborate with the executives. That’s always a key path between them. I don’t interject if I don’t have to. So  with Trevor it’s always been fun and sort of a perfunctory role. We get it done and we can enjoy the success. 

Working with Adam was a little bit different. I met him in 2015 when I was assigned to work with him for The Handmaid’s Tale and Adam is an incredibly prolific composer. He had worked on a number of different projects but Handmaid’s Tale was kind of his first major TV series. Although he knew what he had to do musically to write the score, I think he was a little nervous when it came time to tackle the workflow of a fast-paced environment. TV runs pretty fast. I kind of realized what I needed to do. I had to drop into that sort of educational role and be able to walk him through it patiently. He’s been awesome and he’s such a great composer. It’s a fairly straightforward process and we also know what to do when things change because that’s always a possibility. 

Zita Short: You’re also very concerned with the issue of representing the composer’s best interests at the dub stage. Why do music editors come up against obstacles when attempting to achieve this goal?

Yuri Gorbachow: I’m there to represent them musically on the stage and I know that the job can be  very difficult. That’s the puzzle that I love so much, you know. I can’t wait to help fix it. It’s a natural order evolution of the editing process and certain needs then arise. We need to shorten this cue or shorten a number of cues, maybe we need a cue that we didn’t mention beforehand. I’m happy to represent the composer’s best interest because if any of these things truly need to be done they need to be done with care. I certainly like to bring that to the table.

Zita Short: I also wanted to inquire about the significance of unlocking picture cuts within the music editing community. How do music editors typically respond to unlocking a picture cut?

Yuri Gorbachow: It’s the goal we all want, right. We’re all trying to achieve this locked picture. In the 1980s and 1990s it was very difficult to unlock the picture. If you unlocked it, there was a significant  price to pay. You probably had to start the editing process over again. It was very difficult to salvage the work that was done. So traditionally we like to wait until we have a locked picture and once we do then we can do all our work. If we’re not locking the picture in time then we have less time to do our work. I don’t mind making a few little nips and tucks. I think it’s now become part of the process. The director or the executive producer can achieve the perfection they were looking for instead of having to let go of that dream. Now they can say that they need to make a small change and that request can be satisfied. 

When a picture is about to become unlocked, I still get a little nervous. I imagine myself like a tennis player about to receive a serve. You sort of crouch down low and prepare to return an ace. It’s just a sort of perfunctory or unnecessary role that needs to happen. So there’ll be a few little tweaks and we can respond to that and musically it’s something that I would do. It happens during the mix. Sometimes it can happen even a little bit later where we’re finished with the mix. A little change will be requested and I think that’s perfectly valid in this day and age. 

Zita Short: Anyone who has ever seen a making-of documentary about the editing process will be familiar with the concept of temp music. Does it complicate the music editing process somewhat when the director gets too attached to the temp music that they have employed? 

Yuri Gorbachow: I like to use the term tempitis. It afflicts many of us. I think of it as a good role model. I think it’s a really great way to communicate musical ideas. You can bring in a piece of music that you like and use it as a role model of sorts. We can use a piece of source music, right? We can use a hit from the radio or we can use scores from other movies and just see how things are unfolding. So the problem with temp is that it sort of starts to sit in the track and it’s heard over and over and over again and subconsciously it becomes sort of part of it. You miss it when it’s taken away and when it comes time to do the music it can be a bit of a challenge. 

I think it’s a little bit problematic for a director to tell a composer that they love literally all of the temp music when it might be worth millions in production dollars. If the composer has limited resources available to them and the temp music was produced by the London Symphony Orchestra, it’s just not a fair comparison. I often get brought on just to select temp music and I try to use it as a jumping off point for the composer. It doesn’t have to be limiting and it can spark really important conversations. 

People also overlook the fact that temp hate also exists. Sometimes everyone hates the piece of music that has been put in there. No one ever really swaps it out but it can similarly inspire discussions about what it is specifically that we hate about this piece of music. These notes can be given to the composer and they can keep them in mind when crafting original compositions. So that’s kind of my observation after decades of music editing. Temp is wonderful and it should be loved but legally you have to move on from it. The project is better for it.

Zita Short: Looking ahead to the future, we eagerly anticipate the release of the third season of Vikings: Valhalla in early-2024. Can you offer the fans any teasers for the new season?

Yuri Gorbachow: I’ve been sitting on this since June. I’m looking forward to watching it, too. It’s not that much longer now but anyone who’s come to love the Vikings saga likes it because of the stories, the characters. In this upcoming third season there will be more of that beautiful storytelling. We don’t have that much longer to wait and I’m looking forward to it, as well. 

Andersonian Grief: Acceptance

MR. FOX

They say all foxes are slightly allergic to linoleum, but it’s cool to the paw – try it. They say my tail needs to be dry cleaned twice a month, but now it’s fully detachable – see? They say our tree may never grow back, but one day, something will. Yes, these crackles are made of synthetic goose and these giblets come from artificial squab and even these apples look fake – but at least they’ve got stars on them. I guess my point is, we’ll eat tonight, and we’ll eat together. And even in this not particularly flattering light, you are without a doubt the five and a half most wonderful wild animals I’ve ever met in my life. So let’s raise our boxes – to our survival.

Acceptance is a difficult thing for humans (or members of the canine species) to grasp. We barely accept each other, let alone ourselves, but we can often get close to it. We can see the other side of our grief and sometimes we reach a catharsis, which is just one step closer to acceptance. It’s difficult to get there, though. No matter where you start in the process, no matter how long you stay angry, or you bargain, or deny, or wallow in your grief, acceptance is where you have to end up. It isn’t always the end of a film though, especially not in the world of Wes Anderson.

Yes, there are those easy endings. Almost all of Anderson’s films pre-2012 have the same basic ending. There is often a pop song playing over a slow motion sequence. 

Bottle Rocket ends at the prison with Dignan (Owen Wilson) slowly walking away and accepting that his sacrifice allows Anthony (Luke Wilson) and Bob (Robert Musgrave) to find some semblance of happiness. 

Rushmore ends at the wrap party for Max’s (Jason Schwartzman) latest masterpiece of a play with Max apologizing in his own way and accepting that his life doesn’t need to be a lie for it to be fulfilling. 

For The Royal Tenenbaums, the Tenenbaum extended family gather at Royal’s grave for a somber reflection showing  that they actually liked Royal at the end because he finally accepted that he wasn’t a good father and tried to make up for it in genuine ways rather than with lip service. 

The crew of the Belafonte join Steve Zissou (Bill Murray), who has overcome his grief, as they take a quick walk from the theater to the boat at the end of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou

The Whitman brothers release their metaphorical and literal baggage as they run for their train at the end of The Darjeeling LImited

The extended Fox clan have their “little dance” in the aisles of the supermarket at the end of The Fantastic Mr. Fox.

The films post 2012 have more complicated, but no less satisfying endings. 

Sam (Jared Gilman) and Suzy (Kara Hayward) live on the same island and get to see one another, with some guarded supervision, at the end of Moonrise Kingdom

Each of the timelines of The Grand Budapest Hotel end in turn with M. Gustave (Ralph Fiennes) executed off screen, Mr. Moustafa (F. Murray Abraham) finishing his story, the writer (Tom Wilkinson) concluding his findings, and the student (Jella Niemann) finishing her book on the bench. 

Each group and individual dog alike in Isle of Dogs gets a short wrap up scene, most contentedly living lives of comfort. 

The writers of the French Dispatch gather at the end of The French Dispatch to collaborate on the obituary for their dearly departed editor, Arthur Horowitz, Jr. (Bill Murray).

All of Anderson’s films have this sort of ending. They end with a sort of hope or at least a finality and resolution. Everything is tied in a bow whether easily or by reaching far across the story to do so. Those are forms of acceptance, but often those acceptances are on our part. We’re accepting the contract that the film is over and we may now leave the theater or turn off our home viewing devices. Yet, those aren’t always the true moments of acceptance for the characters’ grief, even if they present those endings as a solution to the grief.

Take The Darjeeling Limited for example. It has a standard Andersonian ending with a slow motion sequence set to The Kinks’ “Powerman.” It’s a neat and tidy ending, but it isn’t the period of acceptance for these characters. It’s just the last step on their journey. The period of acceptance for each of them comes as they go to the funeral for the boy they couldn’t save in the river. As the Whitmans sit in the pedicab, the scene shifts to an identically positioned Jack (Jason Schwartzman), Francis (Owen Wilson) and Peter (Adrien Brody) in the back of a limo heading to their father’s funeral.

In that flashback we see where the Whitmans’ collective neuroses are manifest. Not only that, but we learn that their father died in Peter’s arms, much like the boy he couldn’t save from the river. The Whitman brothers, trespassers at a sacred rite, who have made light of many of the things they’ve seen while in India, see their own grief in another person. They recognize their hurt and that they haven’t fully grieved their father.

It’s here that the Whitmans can finally come to understand their grief. The rest of the film is that catharsis. It’s lighter and the men feel more for each other. They find it in themselves to be honest about where they’re at in their lives and take care of some unfinished business. It makes the final scenes of the brothers running for that train more meaningful knowing they’ve already reached this point where they knew they no longer needed to hold onto something that can’t hold sway over them any more.

Similarly, Isle of Dogs has an ending that nicely encapsulates the story. The refrain of “I Won’t Hurt You” by The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band is heard again and all is well. There’s a big step before that, though. There’s a beautifully captured scene that caps off Chief’s (Bryan Cranston) grief. It comes on the boat just as the dogs have banded together to escape the island and take back their homes from the evil cat cabal ruling Megasaki. Atari (Koyu Rankin), Spots (Liev Schreiber), and Chief stand in a ceremony of sorts. It’s a passing of the guard… dog. In this moment, Chief in a few words finds what he’s always said he hasn’t wanted. He finds someone to love and care for and in that way he lets go. He lets go of his past and he looks forward to his future with Atari and as a dog who knows love. The ending is lovely, but it’s this scene that captures the acceptance Chief has never allowed himself to come near.

The most cathartic example comes from the hardest of Anderson’s films to like. The audience spends the entirety of The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou listening to a boorish, insecure lout push away anyone and everyone who tries to implore him to see reason about the death of his mentor and father figure. His negligence even costs him the life of a man he thinks could be his son. Yet, when Steve and his crew get into the submersible for a look at the jaguar shark that started their crazy expedition, something ethereal happens.

The crew holds their breath as the pink school of fish swims around them. The music, “Starálfur” by Sigur Rós, begins and we see the shark that ate Esteban (Seymour Cassel) as it swims into view. There are a few moments of levity before the song swells and Steve finally breaks down as he remembers. He remembers his love of the sea, his love of Esteban, and his strong affection for Ned (Owen Wilson). He wants to be remembered, too, but he knows that if he’s remembered as he is now, he’ll only be seen as a has been. Seeing the shark again, accepting that he must change to be the man Esteban and Ned saw, is what spursSteve beyond his grief and gives him new energy to complete his life’s work.

The ending of Steve and his crew marching to the Belafonte to the sounds of “Queen Bitch” by David Bowie is hopeful. It’s a renewed purpose toward being the man he needs to be in the world. As they arrive, you can see a figure, smoking a pipe, dressed in a pilot’s uniform, the spirit of Steve’s conscience guiding the crew on their path toward immortality. This tremendously insensitive jackass can change and he will change.

Acceptance is often hard earned. It comes with a sacrifice of sorts, a letting go of something that we think we need. With grief it’s the step we fear. We think if we let go then we can’t remember. If we let go then what we no longer have won’t have the meaning it once did. What Wes Anderson’s films expound upon, though, is that acceptance is more than letting go, it’s letting something else be born in its place. We don’t have this one thing we used to, but now we have something else. The concrete nature of that is soothing, loss is bearable, and when it’s necessary to feel that loss again, we can navigate back to the main menu and hit play. That, or wait for Anderson’s next film to see how he weaves grief into his next intricate and idiosyncratic world because he will always play in this sandbox. He’ll always return to that most universal of human (and canine) experiences.

Movie Review: ‘Eileen’ is a Grimy Noir That Sucks You In


Director: William Oldroyd
Writers: Luke Goebel and Otessa Moshfegh
Stars: Thomasin McKenzie, Anne Hathaway, Shea Whigham

Synopsis: A woman’s friendship with a new co-worker at the prison facility where she works takes a sinister turn.


It feels like there’s a thick film of grime on the screen when you watch Eileen. So much of the film lives in the rank of the back alleyways of humanity. Eileen (Thomasin McKenzie) lives in this world of harsh smells and filth that ooze off the screen like smell-o-vision. It’s hard not to want to cleanse your nostrils and just as you feel like it’s too much, Rebecca (Anne Hathaway), shows up and the air becomes more bearable.

It really is a breath of fresh air when Rebecca shows up at the prison. Eileen is such an unlikeable, although pitiable, character that she’s hard to watch. Rebecca, though, as imbued with a fabulous, confident worldliness by Anne Hathaway, makes Eileen a far more intriguing figure by her interest in the young woman and suddenly brings to the forefront something Eileen has hidden away as she does her penance taking care of her father, Jim (Shea Whigham) in the wake of her mother’s death.

That’s the trick the script plays on you. Otessa Moshfegh and Luke Goebel adapt the novel in a way that makes us think this film is about some kind of makeover or transformation for Eileen. She’s the Eliza Doolittle to Rebecca’s Henry Higgins. It’s only in the subtleties of performance and what the camera focuses on that we get a hint that Eileen isn’t all she presents to Rebecca and the world. She’s someone not even Rebecca can handle.

That’s one thing director William Oldroyd does very well in his adaptation of the novel. He creates excellent visual cues that activate our senses and our hackles at the wrongness of somethings. Oldroyd and cinematographer Ari Wegner create a dark noir vibe with mixtures of brown, red, yellow, and orange hues. The glowing of headlights or the bright neon of the bar sign cut through the dark winter nights and bathe our characters in their sins. Oldroyd and Wegner also show the inner desires characters would never speak out loud. Having Eileen alone in Rebecca’s office, putting her head on the desk and gripping the edge of the desk in desperate need. A need to be someone Rebecca could admire.

Eileen does function as a morality tale in some ways. Without going into too much detail as to how the story unfolds, which is difficult to do in a review like this, the cosmic shift in perspective that happens becomes a question of what would the audience do if they were in Eileen and Rebecca’s sensible pumps? The film captures the essence of the noir era, especially in its femme fatale, Rebecca.

Anne Hathaway steals every scene she’s in. She takes the role and disappears. Even after the turn, she keeps the attention of the audience because her balance shifts from a woman with all the answers to a woman on her back trying to save herself from the situation she’s found herself in. Hathaway is teasing, breathy, and bold in all the best ways.

It’s a difficult adaptation to do right, though. The novel, written by Otessa Moshfegh, has an unreliable narrator in Eileen. In the film version, we rarely know if a scene is true until another character reacts to it. This kind of language is hard to translate to the screen and the filmmakers don’t always pull it off. Especially the scenes of Eileen’s fantasies after she’s been given possession of her father’s gun. It’s troubling to be so in the dark.


Eileen succeeds as a mood piece. It has a strange twist that doesn’t land quite as cleanly as the filmmakers hoped it would. It may be because in this format the introspection has to come from the actors and some of it is lost in the translation. It’s worth the watch as William Oldroyd makes it a very visually interesting film, but its subject and darkness are not for the casual viewer.

Grade: B

Chasing the Gold: The 2024 Golden Globe Nominations & What They Mean for the Oscars

It’s a great day to be Barbie! The 2024 Golden Globe Award nominations have been released, and on the film side, the movies that received the most nominations are Barbie with nine, Oppenheimer with eight, Killers of the Flower Moon and Poor Things both with seven, and Past Lives with five. 

The nominees revealed for the first major televised awards ceremony of 2024 proved that these will be the heavy-hitter titles this award season. Barbie, Oppenheimer, Killers of the Flower Moon, and Poor Things were always going to do well, while Past Lives, which made its debut way back at the Sundance Film Festival in January, received the biggest boost, not only getting into Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama for Greta Lee and Best Screenplay, but also Best Director for Celine Song and Best Motion Picture – Drama. 

On the Drama side, Oppenheimer and Killers of the Flower Moon will be duking it out for major wins, Oppenheimer being the odds-on favorite to win Best Director and Best Screenplay for Christopher Nolan and Best Motion Picture – Drama. It will also likely win the Best Supporting Actor category for Robert Downey Jr. Killers of the Flower Moon will probably win Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Drama for Lily Gladstone, who has been picking up lots of critics’ prizes, and potentially Best Screenplay. Maestro, which got into Best Director for Bradley Cooper and Motion Picture – Drama, could also win at least one major prize, likely Best Actor for Cooper.

On the Comedy or Musical side, the battle is going to be between Barbie and Poor Things. Although one might argue Barbie has the edge by receiving the most nominations of any film, three of those nominations are for Best Original Song and one nomination is for the oddly titled Cinematic and Box Office Achievement. Barbie is likely to win the latter, which then leads the way to Poor Things taking the prize for Best Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical. Emma Stone will also probably win Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical. 

Two other films on the Comedy or Musical side may have underperformed at the nomination level, but both are still likely to win a major prize. The Holdovers missed in both Best Director and Best Screenplay, the latter omission a major shock given its chances at winning the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay, but Paul Giamatti will probably still win Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical. The biggest snub of the morning by far was The Color Purple missing in Motion Picture – Comedy or Musical. With six nominee slots, and the Golden Globes normally reserving a spot in this category for an actual musical, the acclaimed year-end release missing here is stunning. Still, Danielle Brooks will likely beat out strong competition to win Best Supporting Actress for her whirlwind performance. 

Some of my favorite surprises included the divisive but in-my-opinion brilliant Saltburn making it into Best Actor in a Motion Picture – Drama for Barry Keoghan and Best Supporting Actress for Rosamund Pike. Many have suggested Saltburn’s chances at the Academy Awards were already over, but these two acting nominations breathed some life into the film’s awards momentum. All of Us Strangers is another one of the year’s best movies, and I was delighted to see Andrew Scott make it into Best Actor in a Drama. Jennifer Lawrence received a well-deserved nomination for her full-bore comedic performance in No Hard Feelings. Likely the two biggest shocks in the acting categories are Joaquin Phoenix being nominated for Beau is Afraid and Alma Pöysti for Fallen Leaves. These are two wow out-of-nowhere nominations to be sure!


In terms of the Oscar outlook, Past Lives is looking more and more likely to do better than a one-off Best Original Screenplay nomination. Best Picture, Best Director, and Best Actress for Greta Lee are still in the cards. The Zone of Interest making it into Best Motion Picture – Drama also shows the momentum for the Jonathan Glazer drama is gaining with each passing week. American Fiction getting not only a Best Actor nomination for Jeffrey Wright but also getting into the Comedy or Musical category shows it will have a chance at making it into Best Picture at the Oscars. In addition, The Super Mario Bros. Movie receiving three nominations helps its chances of getting in the Best Animated Feature category at the Academy Awards, the first video game adaptation that would do so. And finally, for any doubters who thought Barbie was going to fall short this awards season, this film is most definitely coming for major Oscar nominations, including Best Director and Best Picture.

The 81st Golden Globe Awards will air live on CBS and stream on Paramount+ on Sunday, January 7, 2024, at 5pm PT / 8pm ET. 

Movie Review: ‘Leave the World Behind’ is Best Left Forgotten


Director: Sam Esmail
Writers: Rumaan Alam, Sam Esmail
Stars: Julia Roberts, Mahershala Ali, Ethan Hawke

Synopsis: A family’s getaway to a luxurious rental home takes an ominous turn when a cyberattack knocks out their devices, and two strangers appear at their door.


In film criticism, there are many overused phrases. Let’s take a look at one of them: Style over substance. Many critics, amateur and professional, overuse this term, usually when they fail to understand a film and feel like it is all for looks. But, of course, style is important! Film is a visual medium, after all. One director who I have seen attacked for this is Guillermo del Toro, most notably during the aftermath of the release of Crimson Peak, a film with plenty of substance. But we are not here to talk about GDT, unfortunately. We are here to discuss the work of Sam Esmail, Leave the World Behind. And to put it succinctly, you, Sam Esmail are no Guillermo del Toro.

Leave the World Behind follows a near-unlikeable family, the Sandfords, on their impromptu vacation to a beach house. Amanda (Julia Roberts) wakes up her husband, Clay (Ethan Hawke), telling him that they are packed and ready to go, once the kids wake up. She also spouts a detailed, wordy monologue about how much she despises humanity, because of course she does. The family arrives at a gaudy, ostentatious house and makes themselves comfortable. This is all fine and good until the owner (or is he?), G.H. (Mahershala Ali) arrives with his daughter Ruth (Myha’la) asking to stay because a blackout happened in the city.

So back to style. Esmail, along with cinematographer Tod Campbell, seriously need to calm down. Esmail seems quite aware that he is working with a beautiful set, but not every camera motion needs to be kinetic and swinging across or through floors, ceilings, and staircases. Speaking of things that are extra, the score from Mac Quayle is obvious to the point of annoyance. In case you were wondering if this was a thriller, this Us wannabe makes that perfectly clear. Esmail is fortunate that he has been able to attract top level talented actors, it’s just a shame about the lines that his and Rumaan Alam’s script forces upon them.

Almost none of the plot, focused on cyberattacks from an unknown entity, works in the least, except for when it allows for private moments between actors, particularly Roberts and Ali. G.H. solemnly discussing the possibilities of the end of life as we know it, his private focus on protecting his family, all while coming to grips with the likelihood of his wife dying, is certainly the high point of the film. Unfortunately, those high points are few and far between. Roberts overacts her way through numerous nonsensical moments, while Hawke is his slacker dad self. The kids aren’t given much to do. Rose (Farrah Mackenzie) apparently loves Friends and “the Sorkin Years” of The West Wing. How old is this kid? And her older brother Archie (Charlie Evans) is apparently only present to be petulant and have bad things happen to him. It’s all just seriously exhausting and not in any kind of thought provoking way. 

When news of this film broke, I found myself surprised that this gathering of Oscar Winners (Roberts, Ali) and nominees (Hawke) were involved in a movie that was not getting any kind of theatrical window. Well, that will show me. A spectacular cadre of performers does not necessarily lead to a good, or even watchable movie. I would say that the script needed another pass, but in terms of pseudo-apocalyptic movies, Leave the World Behind is barely a blip. There are only mildly interesting ideas, but they have all been done better previously and likely will be done better in the future. Esmail’s film is all style, no substance, and a waste of talent.

Grade: D-

Classic Movie Review: ‘Stalker’ Seeks the Truth


Director: Andrei Tarkovsky
Writers: Arkadiy Strugatskiy, Boris Strugatskiy, Andrei Tarkovsky
Stars: Alisa Freyndlikh, Aleksandr Kaydanovskiy, Anatoliy Solonitsyn

Synopsis: A guide leads two men through an area known as the Zone to find a room that grants wishes.


This film was viewed as part of the event, “Tarkovsky: 6 Films, Master Works by a Master of Cinema,” at the Kentucky Theatre, accompanied by a Q&A by Raymond De Luca, Assistant Professor of Russian Studies and International Film Studies at the University of Kentucky

To get my own biases out of the way, this is the film in the Tarkovsky canon that I was most excited to finally see on the big screen. Stalker is, big surprise here, still a difficult film to engage in, but has more moments of acting stylistic choices that are recognizable to more modern cinephiles. But, this is still a Tarkovsky film. Deeper meaning and the human psyche and struggle still reign supreme. 

Stalker follows, well, a stalker or guide as he brings two men, one writer and one professor, into a forbidden place known only as “The Zone.” This zone, which the government guards, is said to hold a room which grants a person’s deepest wish or desire upon entering. Additionally, the laws of physics and nature seem not to apply here, which affords Tarkovsky and cinematographer Aleksandr Knyazhinskiy many opportunities to distract viewers and create a non linear journey.

The question that many get stuck on with Stalker is, what exactly is the zone?  Many interpretations arise, which is likely what Tarkovsky wants. There could be a clear analogue to an environmental disaster, especially given the fact that the Russian government attempts to keep people out on pain of death. Given the themes of the film, there is also a likelihood that the zone is purgatory; a waiting place to be judged before moving on to heaven or hell. This is the lens I have always seen this through, though many scholars also see the meaning of the zone as simply the struggle to make meaning at all.

But let’s examine the purgatory angle. Before being brought into the zone, the world is tedious, painful, and a constant struggle. The stalker argues with his wife, the writer cannot write, and the professor struggles with any meaning at all. The outside world is slow and filmed in a dirty looking sepia tone. The people in power are armed with weapons aimed at destruction and hiding the truth. The idea of life on earth as pain and struggle ring quite true with Catholic teachings. When the zone is finally entered, the surrounding nature is in full color, a dramatic shift. But it is not obviously beautiful or heavenly in any way. At first glance, it is normal to our eyes. 

And then there is the room itself. We are misguided at first, thinking that our characters can wish for whatever they want. But the characters balk at that. What if an evil person was brought here and inflicted worldwide pain. Should the room be destroyed? But the story told of an old stalker near the beginning of the film is important. Stalkers never enter the room, but one did. This stalker, Porcupine, entered the room to wish to save his dying brother. But the room only provides what you most want. Porcupine was given riches, his brother died, and he understood his fault of greed.

It is also important to note the three men. The Stalker, a man of faith. The Writer, a man of art. The Professor, a man of science. The professor fights to destroy a possible evil, an academic exercise in thought. The writer battles to understand it with incessant questioning, an artistic enterprise. The stalker accepts it as a matter of faith, and attempts to bring others in, a proselytizing process. When he is accused of doing this selfishly, The Stalker (Aleksandr Kaydanovskiy) performs a stunning monologue about his desire to help others that will stick with you. Later, after being rejected, he weeps with his wife, understanding that riches and class differences keep us all from connecting with faith. 

Stalker can draw a number of conclusions. One of those is that all three versions of man featured here are necessary in the search for truth. The artist is necessary for the expression of faith in a human way. The professor is necessary in order to process and deliver the information to humankind. And the man of faith is the beginning. If we do not believe, there is no hope. As an addendum, there is a lack of modernity in the zone, which shows us that the more advanced we become, in our urge to have the power of gods, the further we get from our faith. 

Stalker is an impressive work, even now almost 45 years later. It challenges us, whether we are people of faith or not. In a dramatically fantastic artistic career, Stalker is Tarkobvky’s greatest achievement, and one of film’s greatest accomplishments, as well.

Grade: A+

Movie Review: ‘The Taste of Things’ Should Be Savored


Director: Anh Hung Tran
Writers: Marcel Rouff and Anh Hung Tran
Stars: Juliette Binoche, Benoit Magimel, Emmanuel Salinger

Synopsis: The story of Eugenie, an esteemed cook, and Dodin, the fine gourmet with whom she has been working for over the last 20 years.


Food on film is basically its own genre at this point. Throughout numerous cultures and film styles, food is a standard. Tampopo, Eat Drink Man Woman, Big Night, and Like Water For Chocolate are just a few fabulous examples of the power of food on celluloid. It is not enough to simply film well composed dishes in order to make greatness. This is not your instagram feed, it must contain actual substance. There are few food films of greater substance than this year’s The Taste of Things.

The Taste of Things follows the relationship between a chef, Dodin Bouffant (Benoit Magimel), and his cook, Eugenie (Juliette Binoche). It should be no surprise that much of this working, and loving, relationship is built through, and inside their shared kitchen space. Masterfully crafted by director Anh Hung Tran, and beautifully photographed by cinematographer Jonathan Ricquebourg, nearly the first quarter of the movie consists of Dodin and Eugenie preparing a lavish meal. They are assisted by Violette (Galatea Bellugi) and a possible new apprentice in Pauline (Bonnie Chagneau-Ravoire).

This opening sequence of events may seem borderline unnecessary on first watch. Even if it was, it would be worth it just to see Eugenie and Dodin cook. But it is so much more than what it seems. As the moments build, we see the unspoken bond between the two. They only say a handful of words to each other, but there is a trust, a comfort, a love that is evident. It becomes more obvious as Dodin and Eugenie separately work with Pauline to see her level of skill. She is just beginning but obviously has that something. One could imagine that Eugenie also had that something, which makes her irreplaceable.

The scenes involving Pauline are also completely necessary, though they may seem to be “just” showing the intricacy of flavors in Dodin’s creations. He is, after all, the Napoleon Bonaparte of the culinary world. Of note, Napoleon, among other things, is known for tactical brilliance and providing unexpected strategy. Dodin, indeed, provides the unexpected. But to return to Pauline, her incredibly sensitive palate shows how complex the flavors are, and how difficult they are to create. This leads us, once again, back to Dodin and Eugenie. The language of their love is this exact creation, so even when it seems simple, there is complexity underneath.

There may be other characters, but they are mostly ancillary. This is, first and foremost, a love story. Binoche and Magimel are perfectly cast, and perfectly complementary. Binoche has always been a beautifully grounded and natural performer, and Tran uses this to its supreme advantage. Eugenie has no desire to be in the room when Dodin is performing the courses for guests. She knows her importance and how talented Dodin is, in and out of the kitchen. It pleases her to keep distance, with the knowledge that her work was done perfectly.

Even if all of this is true, the film is empty without the private, stolen moments between our two lovers. And, as is appropriate to them, there are few grand gestures. They are direct, flirtatious, and sometimes smirking. Due to Binoche’s controlled performance, none of these interactions is over the top, but they are all deeply felt and they stir both Dodin and the audience watching these intensely private exchanges. We know their love, their bond immediately.

The Taste of Things is not a movie to be rushed, but to be savored like a grand meal. Dodin and Eugenie have built their relationship, year after year, dish after dish, to its grand heights in the supposed autumns of their lives. It may begin with a sense of awe at the sumptuousness of the food, but ends with an understanding of connection, love, and moving forward. If we are lucky, we get to see a movie like this once a year. The Taste of Things is patient, focused, passionate, and a reward for the audience.

Grade: A+

Classic Movie Review: ‘Mirror’ Reflects Ourselves


Director: Andrei Tarkovsky
Writers: Aleksandr Misharin, Arseniy Tarkovskiy, Andrei Tarkovsky
Stars: Margarita Terekhova, Filipp Yankovskiy, Ignat Daniltsev

Synopsis: A dying man in his forties remembers his past. His childhood, his mother, the war, personal moments and things that tell of the recent history of all the Russian nation.


This film was viewed as part of the event, “Tarkovsky: 6 Films, Master Works by a Master of Cinema,” at the Kentucky Theatre, accompanied by a Q&A by Raymond De Luca, Assistant Professor of Russian Studies and International Film Studies at the University of Kentucky

Well, we have arrived. Tarkovsky’s most difficult, and possible, most personal work, Mirror. I am not going to pretend like I understand every single moment and reference in this incredibly dense, poetic film. But I can give you my perspective. It does seem like the further we get into Tarkovsky’s filmography, the more confusing and effortful it becomes. But I would still argue that it is also rewarding, in the end. 

This is now the second time I have watched Mirror and I still find myself intimidated to speak about it. Having a non cinephile watch Mirror is akin to beginning to listen to music by taking in the most complex symphony ever created. Yes, you can understand that there is greatness, but it can be difficult to pinpoint. Like many of his works, Mirror is not entertainment, but art, and almost designed to confuse. Mirror appears to be loosely based on Tarkovsky’s life, even featuring poetry written by his father, which was a problematic relationship for the director throughout his life. But interestingly, the film is, in many ways, owed to his relationship with his mother. 

Like memory itself, this film is non linear in structure, and not completely dependable as far as its narration. Even more than previous works, Mirror features many difficult to understand, dream-like sequences. Tarkovsky also continues to engage in the use of different color structures (black and white, color, sepia) as he did in Solaris and will continue to do in Stalker. Tarkovsky is again focusing on the internal, but in a slightly more obvious way. That is, Mirror is focused on one man and his own memories and important moments in his life. 

It is an interesting film to engage with, specifically within the oeuvre of Tarkovsky. In many of his films, Tarkovsky seems to be seeking for truth in humanity (more on that in an upcoming review of Stalker). But here, truth is more evasive. There is no simple way to engage in truth from inside one man’s brain. The way that we see our memories, our experiences, our dreams, are not grounded in any kind of truth that is attributable to the many. It only feels true to us. And the difficulty of this movie actually seems to prove that point. Mirror makes me think of times that I have tried to tell other people my own experiences. I usually end up speaking in circles, unable to truly show them what I mean. I know it and they never will. In many ways, this is the tragedy of human existence and the limits of our communication.

But even if you cannot find the grasp of memory and dreams, no matter how much musicality and poetry is involved, film is a truly visual medium. Tarkovsky, as usual, takes full advantage of this fact with fastidious crafting of images. The opening of the film, wildly confusing on first watch, is a microcosm of both Mirror and life. It features a young woman teaching a child with a stammer to speak. The child struggles and she appears to hypnotize him. And with a snap of her finger, the child speaks clearly. When we look back at our own lives and learning – speaking, reading, riding a bike, dressing ourselves – it seems to pass in an instant, in a snap. This is why in Tarkovsky’s film, it is difficult to make sense of the order, structure, and style. But on repeated watches, like with all great works of art, it teaches us less about what Tarkovsky meant, and much more about ourselves, our experiences, our memories, our mothers.

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Monster’ is a Truth Told in Three Touching Perspectives


Director: Kore-eda Hirokazu
Writer: Yuji Sakamoto
Stars: Sakura Ando, Eita Nagayama, Soya Kurokawa

Synopsis: A mother demands answers from teacher when her son begins acting strangely.


Hirokazu Kore-eda has adopted a more schmaltzy approach to telling his stories for the past few years. This has made his most recent features, except for Shoplifters, somewhat detached from reality. They never reach a satisfactory emotional point. It is quite disappointing, considering his brilliant early features that channel the energy of Yasujirō Ozu’s narrative style. Kore-eda knows how to portray domestic melancholy in a humanistic way, unlike other directors who might do so in more theatrical and melodramatic ways. The tangible and grounded emotions have made cinephiles worldwide heavily relate to his films. So, when you see such a talent falter, even slightly, you ache for them to regain their mojo. Indeed, Kore-eda has done so with Monster, a heartbreaking Rashomon-like style picture divided into three sharply written parts. 

After a quick trip to South Korea with Broker, Kore-eda is back in his native land of Japan. His latest project begins with blazing fires in the night sky, where we see a hostess bar burning to the ground. As the chaos emerges and the sirens continue to drown out the sound of worry and sadness, people gather around the flames. They are curious as to what might have caused it. The film starts with a simple premise, yet as it extends, it transitions into something equally heartbreaking and hopeful in its examinations of truth. We first see a fifth grader, Minato (Soya Kurokawa), and his mother, Saori (Sakura Ando), who have tried to live a humble life after the tragic death of his father. But the young boy hasn’t been the same since; lately, something has been bothering him to the point of changing his attitude from quiet and sweet to troubled and disturbed. 

One day after school, Minato comes home with a strange look on his face. Saori can’t seem to figure out what’s wrong with him at first glance. His looks are distant, and he feels separated from the person his mother knows. But when Saori hears that her son’s teacher, Mr. Hori (Eita Nagayama), has been bullying and behaving violently against him, she asks for justice for his actions. However, the meeting between her and the principal, with Hori present, doesn’t go the way she expected. She’s received with fake apologies and no motive for improving the care of the students. Kore-eda leaves plenty of details behind in each different perspective so that in the next angle, we can slowly connect the dots. Whether the detail is minor or consequential, a lighter or a bruised arm, they all have a place within the story’s search for truth. They are connected with the introductory flames that Kore-eda uses as a scene to separate each perspective. 

You can compare Monster’s narrative structure to the likes of Rashomon and, most recently, The Last Duel. But Kore-eda doesn’t copy the exact format of the aforementioned films. Unlike them, this film’s three perspectives tell one version of the story – but through three different sets of eyes. Meanwhile, Kurosawa (brilliantly) and Scott offer iterations of the tale. The first stance in Monster leaves you with many questions and little to no answers, leaving room for contemplation. And as it continues with the other two perspectives, it recontextualizes what you saw before. The title of Kore-eda’s latest is misleading, referring to the beast that surges from within – forged by our emotions and painful experiences – rather than a literal figure of malevolence. None of the characters are handled in a way that could be lessened to such superficial traits. 

It is the idea behind being a monster, a person eaten alive by their suffering, and how that causes one to make brash decisions. The viewer ponders around to whom this title should apply, whether it is Minato, Hori, or the educational system and its corrupt nature. Kore-eda wants you to reevaluate how we see their actions – taking glimpses through each perspective – instead of targeting them wholly, diminishing them as simple personas of protagonists and antagonists. Kore-eda is known for using empathy as his way of “manipulating” the viewer. But in Monster, that constant swindling comes in a matter that doesn’t feel forced or excessively maneuvered. The root of this film’s empathy is sourced from the inability of people to accept or embrace incomplete pictures. 

There are constant conversations between characters about what they know and don’t know, referring to the actions taking place and the backstories accompanying them. Your opinion of them changes from one side to another, from malevolent to innocent and vice-versa, upon each detail and mystery unraveled. For the first time since 1995’s Maborosi, Kor-eda is not the credited screenwriter. This shows you why this film deviates from his usual form of storytelling, depending on techniques he isn’t accustomed to. Its mood and atmosphere are more lenient on bleak and melancholic tones rather than hopeful, like most of Kore-eda’s filmography. 

This moral tale of the effects words and actions have on children does have some unnecessarily convoluted moments; Sakamoto does these narrative tricks with some much-needed subtlety and cautiousness. Yet some parts of the web-like narrative don’t work because of Sakamoto’s need to over-entangle each plot point. If Kore-eda had written this, he likely would have made it far more straightforward – and, coincidentally, more effective in the process. Another element that elevates the film is the cinematography of Ryūto Kondō, who has previously worked with Kore-eda in Shoplifters. He creates beauty out of internal damnation, using a slightly poetic visual language that adds notes of melancholy to the film. Kore-eda’s previous films lacked those piercing effects in their cinematographies, which led them to have less of an identity. Kondō’s work makes Monster stand out because of its different ways of expression, varying from the perspectives. It is a fascinating change of pace, creating a more pensive piece rather than one more open on an emotional level. 

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Silent Night’ is a Cacophony of Bad


Director: John Woo
Writer: Robert Archer Lynn
Stars: Joel Kinnaman, Catalina Sandino Moreno, Scott Mescudi

Synopsis: A grieving father enacts his long-awaited revenge against a ruthless gang on Christmas Eve.


A silent film has a certain novelty in the digital era. It’s like a black and white aesthetic or shooting on film instead of digital. The choice is bold especially in the action genre in which the characters are often quipping, growling, or berating between bursts of gunfire. Silent Night isn’t completely devoid of dialogue though; any dialogue that is exposition is spoken in voice over. Any shouting during battle is done by characters not seen to be speaking on screen, as well. There are a few short, muffled, inconsequential lines spoken by main characters, but that’s it. It’s too bad this intriguing conceit is wrapped up in a massive turkey.

The lack of dialogue is a gimmick that gets old very soon and completely destroys any of the realism the filmmakers wish to have with their everyman hero. In fact, it creates an incredibly depressing film. With no dialogue to distract from the plot, we’re forced to sit in the silence of this man’s grief and the reminder that children can die. All we know of the main character is his one motivation in life and it’s not enough to build a movie on.

The conceit is even worse when the training montage, which should have been a few minutes with a rocking song before the mayhem, is a very long chunk of the film. It’s drawn out and crushingly boring. There’s a reason main characters in these revenge films are former military, cops, or assassins, because you can skip them being bad at shooting a gun and driving a car in an aggressive way. This everyman is so painfully inept at what he wants to accomplish. It’s really awful watching someone who hasn’t been in a real fight with another human try and fight someone. Bad fights by people who don’t understand how to fight only belong in comedies. In an action movie it’s just pitiable and not in the way to get an audience on your side.

The whole film has a student thesis feel. It plays like someone who watched a lot of action films thought they could do it. Silent Night is entirely derivative of films from the ’80s and ’90s heyday of the action film. Even the way time is passed in the film is hackneyed and eye-rolling. Based on writer Robert Archer Lynn’s previous credits of micro budget indies, that’s not too much of a stretch. Especially since this is his first produced screenplay in sixteen years and probably spent that time stewing in an executive’s slush pile with only a quick rewrite to make it more relevant now.

A lot of these revenge films, especially the modern variety have something to say. Silent Night feels like it’s just echoing political talking points about urban blight. It’s set in a Texas city that is overrun by Latino drug gangs. The police are powerless, the people are in fear, and the federal government does nothing. It’s very much using talking points of several prominent fear mongers to indicate that you could do what the police cannot and in one scene of complicity between Brian (Joel Kinnaman) and Det. Vassell (Scott Mescudi) what they secretly want you to do because their hands are tied by the law.

You have to wonder what made action movie legend John Woo want to attach his name to this lame duck of a movie. It’s obvious that Woo is trying to make a film his way. He and cinematographer Sharone Meir pull off some dynamic moves and tracking shots, but you can’t polish something so ridiculous. It’s so ridiculous that it’s not even a fun bad movie. At one point, the reflection of Brian’s memories are projected onto a Christmas bauble and the overwrought music is so maudlin that the silliness is lost in the uncomfortableness of the situation. Silent Night runs head first into every cliché possible, but skips out on Woo’s own clichés which would have at least made the movie interesting to watch.

There is typically something positive to say about any film, but Silent Night isn’t worth the digital space it takes up. It’s hard to say that an action movie where people are gruesomely killed is supposed to be fun, but the fantasy is supposed to be escapist at least and not so moodily depressing. This is just dour melancholy for an hour and forty-five minutes. Even Lars Von Trier wouldn’t make an action movie this morose. Avoid this one at all costs.

Grade: F

Movie Review: ‘Wonka’ is Madcap Movie Magic


Director: Paul King
Writers: Simon Farnaby, Paul King, and Roald Dahl
Stars: Timothée Chalamet, Hugh Grant, Olivia Colman

Synopsis: With dreams of opening a shop in a city renowned for its chocolate, a young and poor Willy Wonka discovers that the industry is run by a cartel of greedy chocolatiers.


The new Wonka film is designed to be family-friendly viewing. To that point, the prequel to the beloved children’s classic, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, succeeds beautifully on that level and then some. Director Paul King captures the overall mischievous nature of the iconic character in a film that is nearly perfect for family holiday viewing in part because the film never takes itself too seriously. So, while this translation may (albeit intentionally) lose that dark, sardonic humor and cynicism diehard Dahl-heads may love, King and company create a touch of madcap movie magic that makes Wonka the near-perfect big-budget holiday viewing for the entire family.

Written by Paul King and Paddington 2 collaborator Simon Farnaby, this Wonka prequel follows the titular character as he arrives in town, waiting to distribute his delicious confections to the world and looking to settle in the chocolatier district of 1930s London. When he arrives, the innocent Wonka (a wonderful Timothée Chalamet) begins a festive song and dances through the cold nighttime streets, giving away all his money to those who need it most. Wonka, about to spend the night freezing on a cold, hard park bench, is approached by a shadowy figure named Bleacher (Tom Davis), who offers him shelter.

Wonka follows and is given a warm bed by Mrs. Scrubbit (a menacingly funny Olivia Colman). So, what’s the catch? She asks Wonka to sign the contract while encouraging him to ignore the fine print. Even when a local neighborhood child, Noodle (Calah Lane), who works there, tries to warn him, he signs his life away. It turns out Noodle is Mrs. Scrubbit’s and Bleacher’s property. The duo preys on unsuspecting visitors, and they sign into indentured servitude. Along with Abacus (Jim Carter), Piper (Natasha Rothwell), Rottie (Rakhee Thakrar), and Larry Chucklesworth (Rich Fulcher), they are locked in the bottom of the inn’s basement, scrubbing the days away.

However, they have no fear. With the help of Noodle and her friends, combined with Wonka’s precocious nature, they sneak out of the grounds to help build Wonka’s business. That’s until big business does what corporate fat cats do. Led by Slugworth (Paterson Joseph), Fickelgruber (Mathew Baynton), and Prodnose (Matt Lucas), they work together to sabotage Wonka’s efforts in small business, watering down their product (quite literally) and paying off local political figures to keep their pretty standard treats in the mouths of the community they serve. Frankly, it’s the same plot lifted from David Simon’s The Wire, where Avon Barksdale and Stringer Bell sell inferior products under various labels to control the space, but this is Warner Brothers going for congenial Disney fare, so I digress.

From there, Wonka can be a silly but often charming viewing experience that’s too much goddamn fun to ignore. While anyone can appreciate Timothée Chalamet’s lovely magnetic quickness that he brings to the Willy Wonka role, establishing and spreading a consistent tone throughout the picture, the supporting characters truly shine in King’s film. For one, Keegan-Michael Key is hilarious as a Chief of Police addicted to the chocolate fix the sugar-fat cats have him hooked on as he addresses their needs with amusing intimidation and unlawful arrests.

However, it’s the delightful Hugh Grant, the Wonka world’s first Oompa-Loompa. This is where you may get some of that quintessential Dahl-biting humor. Grant’s delivery (and his silence) is perfection. He steals every scene he’s in. The famous onset (or off) prickly and posh performer has found quite the niche with comic-supporting turns in the likes of Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves, Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre, and Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery. As the young kids say, Grant slays in the role. In other words, he’s funny as hell, and a prequel to his character must be considered.

Neil Hannon and Joby Talbot wrote the music for Wonka, and some beautiful song and dance numbers are tremendous, enchanting fun that bring some unexpected poignant heart. The signature show stopper is Chalamet’s lovely rendition of the Gene Wilder classic, “Pure Imagination.” That’s the genius of assigning the Paddington 2 team to helm the new Wonka franchise. At the same time, the film will have its cynical detractors, which is fine. But those musical numbers in the movie have much more heart than expected. Along with Wonka’s backstory, covering the time with his mother (played by Sally Hawkins) has some heavy melancholy notes, sprinkling the film with some depth when needed. The final product is a whimsical and addictive family film. While you may argue some of the guts have been ripped out of the source material (it would be unfair to compare this to the original), Wonka is a delightful, fizzy, and delectable treat. While the filmmakers may lay it on delectably thick, including the film’s laden special effects and a third act that can border on saccharine, Wonka’s modern spin could potentially be a new holiday classic for mainstream movie fans. It should have long legs for years to come.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘May December’ Balances the Absurd and the Dark


Director: Todd Haynes
Writers Samy Burch
Stars: Julianne Moore, Natalie Portman, Charles Melton

Synopsis: Twenty years after their notorious tabloid romance gripped the nation, a married couple buckles under pressure when an actress arrives to do research for a film about their past.


The Oscars are no strangers to films that delve into controversial topics, especially when the focus is on a relationship involving an adult and a minor. In recent years, they’ve nominated films like Licorice Pizza and Call Me By Your Name, both centering around a romance between a character in their mid-20s and a character who’s in their late teens. Defenses of these films often range in argument. Some arguments assert that such relationships occur in real life and deserve a realistic depiction, despite the social unacceptability. Others assert that main characters in films don’t need to be morally good characters, and advocate for more films that explore characters existing in an ambiguous gray area, neither wholly good nor bad. While both arguments are valid, I find neither particularly applicable in these instances. I believe that a film should explore controversial topics, but it crosses a line when it starts to endorse them. I’ve previously spoken out about the problematic nature of the former, highlighting the dangerous precedent these films set with the tones they establish. Both of the mentioned films lean towards romanticizing the relationship between the two main characters, almost as a type of poignant romance that goes against societal standards, and one that they can overcome.

May December follows Elizabeth Berry (Natalie Portman), an actress chosen to portray the “real-life” figure Gracie Atherton-Yoo (Julianne Moore). Elizabeth travels to Savannah, Georgia, to delve into the lives of Gracie and her husband, Joe Yoo (Charlies Melton), who gained tabloid attention for their illicit affair when Gracie was 36 and Joe was just 13. I approached the film with some apprehension due to the subject matter and the poor execution of similar films that have come before. The film focuses on these characters as adults, providing ample space to explore the nuanced consequences of their relationship. This approach allows the characters to navigate the moral gray area in which they reside, helping the audience understand the motivations behind their actions without ever justifying them. May December intricately examines the problematic relationship at the heart of the film, all while incorporating a playful and campy atmosphere reminiscent of a daytime soap opera.

The most intriguing aspect of May December lies in the relationship at the film’s center between Moore and Melton’s characters. Todd Haynes skillfully crafts the dynamic between these two, revealing the disturbing nature of its conception while portraying them as a seemingly normal couple. Gracie,(Moore), stands out as one of the most captivating characters to grace our screens in quite a while. Clearly a deeply troubled individual, she exhibits multiple instances of an unstable nature, experiencing crying fits and breakdowns over the most minute nuisances in everyday life, suggesting that there’s something more going on underneath the surface. As the film progresses, we gain insight into how she perceives her relationship with a man she pursued while he was still a minor, and how she constructs a narrative to justify it to herself. Joe (Melton), now an adult, initially appears to navigate the disturbingly unique predicament adeptly. However, as the story unfolds, we realize he’s merely cosplaying as an adult, still emotionally and mentally stunted at the age when Gracie initiated contact with him. Haynes doesn’t shy away from addressing the troublesome nature of this courtship, yet he skillfully infuses profound humanity into the characters at its core.

The addition of Portman’s character into their life only further highlights the rift between the two, and how starkly different they are from each other. As the film progresses, their relationship only continues to crumble apart, as Portman begins to pry into their personal lives and unravel the core of their connection. Adding another layer of complexity to the narrative, Portman’s character, Elizabeth, sets the stage for the film’s exploration of not only personal relationships but also its stylistic choices. Following the pattern of the other characters in the film, Elizabeth is nearly as morally ambiguous as the others. With a polite and charming demeanor, as an actor, you can see what kind of lengths she’ll go to as part of her pseudo investigative journalism, trying to truly tap into who Gracie is as a human, even if that means causing colossal shifts in her everyday life, all for the chance at trying to make future her character on screen appear more “real”.

Stylistically, Haynes effortlessly balances the dark and serious tones of the context when necessary and isn’t afraid to poke fun at the inherent absurdity of the film’s nature as well. Particularly, the use of the score truly emphasizes moments of over-the-top dramatization, giving the film an almost daytime soap opera quality that makes it incredibly entertaining to watch. Conversely, he knows when to focus on the seriousness of the matter, directing the performers to heartbreaking places that will shake you to your core. The dichotomy of the campy tones of the film alongside the intense realism provides for a fantastic viewing experience. Although Haynes might occasionally grapple with pacing issues and trying to establish the exact direction of the film, once you’re settled in, it easily becomes one of this year’s best viewing experiences.


While May December on its surface might seem like an off-putting film about an incredibly controversial topic, the way it deals with the themes, narratives, and characters it presents is flawlessly executed. With hilarious moments of absolute absurdity intermingled with some of the most intensely dramatic scenes in film this year, it’s undoubtedly an experience that will not disappoint.

Grade: A-

Classic Movie Review: ‘Solaris’ Unmoors the Audience


Director: Andrei Tarkovsky
Writers: Stanislaw Lem, Fridrikh Gorenshteyn, Andrei Tarkovsky
Stars: Natalya Bondarchuk, Donatas Banionis, Jüri Järvet

Synopsis: A psychologist is sent to a station orbiting a distant planet in order to discover what has caused the crew to go insane.


This film was viewed as part of the event, “Tarkovsky: 6 Films, Master Works by a Master of Cinema,” at the Kentucky Theatre, accompanied by a Q&A by Raymond De Luca, Assistant Professor of Russian Studies and International Film Studies at the University of Kentucky

In my watch of (hopefully) all of the great works by Andrei Tarkovsky, we come to probably his most well-known film, Solaris. Now don’t assume that this is more approachable due to this fact, it is likely only known due to a remake from some guys named Steven Soderbergh and George Clooney. That film hewed closer to the original source novel, and, as a side note, Tarkovsky definitely does not care about being deferential to source material. Solaris is a prime example, instead focusing on Tarkovsky’s views on humanity and supposed technological progress. 

I would argue that this is, so far, the most opaque and confusing Tarkovsky work (but don’t worry, Mirror is just around the corner to blow this out of the water as far as that goes. The plot of Solaris, such as it is, focuses on psychologist Kris Kelvin (Donatas Banionis) who is being shipped to a space station, wherein every member is either perished or undergoing an emotional crisis. Not shockingly, Kelvin endures his own terrifying emotional collapse while onboard. 

But, as you may have noticed, plot is not terribly important to Tarkovsky. It is a means to an end. Tarkovsky also seems to desire his audience to feel unmoored and confused throughout the runtime. This is a feature, not a bug. We feel exactly as Kelvin does, unsure of what is real or if anything means anything. One could write an entire feature on his use of light, color, and focus during Solaris, and in my opinion, get no closer to truth or awareness. So, although these visuals are stunning and capture the attention, our focus should be on the internal and not the external.

As with all great science fiction, outer space reflects on our inner space and what it means to be human. I won’t go as far as to say that none of the events in outer space matter, but they force us (and the characters) to reflect on what matters and where we are headed.  This is highlighted by the fact that the most important interaction with the “aliens” is when they take the form of Kelvin’s dead wife, Khari (Natalya Bondarchuk). 

Although it is unclear why at the outset of Khari’s appearance, there is a deep sadness present in the spaces between their grateful and loving interactions. We, as humans, are constantly poisoned by our deep seeded regret and loss. There are losses that we never recover from. There is ground that we can never make up. It’s another jab to the audience, that Kelvin is a clinical psychologist. This is a man who (we assume) deals with loss, regret, pain, and pathology on a daily basis. And yet, he is unable to let go. 

In an early scene in the film, Tarkovky forced us again, to look at ourselves. In a mockery of a space shuttle launch, he shows us Tokyo. At the time, Tokyo had just created a labyrinthine series of highways to show off our modernity and progress. This scene, in a true test of patience, lasts nearly seven minutes, almost challenging you to take a break, at least mentally. These highways, gorgeous to look at, also hide poverty and struggle. 

Tarkovsky, in this moment, and throughout the runtime, forces us to face the fact that we are so focused on our great triumphs, that we forget the people we have lost and where our focus should be. Solaris is a success in many ways, but his unwillingness to not leave his audience behind creates a grand challenge. This is not so great for a first time watch, but tends to be more rewarding (and more frustrating) on repeated viewings.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Poor Things’ is Wild and Unexpected


Director: Yorgos Lanthimos
Writers: Tony McNamara and Alasdair Gray
Stars: Emma Stone, Willem Dafoe, Mark Ruffalo

Synopsis: The incredible tale about the fantastical evolution of Bella Baxter, a young woman brought back to life by the brilliant and unorthodox scientist Dr. Godwin Baxter.


Poor Things is another wild and unexpected stroke of filmmaking genius from Yorgos Lanthimos. No, it’s not his original material. Still, the adaptation of Alasdair Gray’s work is a perfect match in cinematic heaven for fans of the director’s gifts for surrealism and dark psychological comedy. His latest will bring any cinephile unexpected joy because Poor Things constantly challenges and surprises them, which is rare for resolute film enthusiasts and critics alike. 

The story follows Bella (Emma Stone), an adult woman with a child’s mind brimming with innocence and self-discovery. According to Dr. Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe), Emma’s body was pulled from the river that she leaped into from the bridge above, clearly succumbing to some sort of grief. Godwin resurrects Bella with controversial techniques and replaces her brain with a child’s in a move that would make Dr. Frankenstein proud.

Godwin hires Max McCandles (Ramy Youssef), a public health official, to study and document Bella’s progress. Bella is a fascinating case. She throws tantrums and tests boundaries, like any precocious child. Bella looks at Dr. Godwin as a father figure, wanting to do what her “father” does. For example, taking a knife and curiously carving up a human cadaver, just like the “good” doctor.

Of course, Godwin’s unorthodox methods lead to the unintended consequence of self-discovery for Bella. She begins to balk at Dr. Baxter’s suffocating parenting style, which is used to keep his secret project under wraps and runs off to experience the world. Bella does that with Duncan Wedderburn (a slimy Mark Ruffalo), a depraved lawyer (as Colonel Jessup would say, “Is there any other kind?”) who is as far from Atticus Finch as one can get.

Poor Things is based on the novel of the same name by Gray. The landmark work is an outlandish tale that was meant to shine a light on equality and liberation from social constraints. Lanthimos, the beloved critical darling, has been on a hot streak with The Lobster, The Favourite, and now, Poor Things. He does a wonderful job conveying the nuanced depth of the original material’s themes, absurdity, and capriciousness.

What makes Lanthimos’s films so uncomfortable for some is that he pushes the boundaries of social conventions like no filmmaker of his generation. How many directors can be disturbing and incredibly funny all at the same time? This juxtaposition is often accomplished regarding cinematic clichés, particularly related to female characters. 

All of this is brought to life by Emma Stone, who gives the best performances of her career. Stone brings a guilelessness to the role that any parent recognizes as joyful, but in situations that are often adult and disturbing. Even though Bella is a child, she is free of social constraints that bring shame to knowing she shouldn’t be the one exploring a life of sexual desires. Stone’s turn is simply stunning, with a subtle nuance that begins to sneak up on you.

Her character is far from a manic pixie woman solely to quench a man’s needs. Bella has a thirst for gluttonous urges, lots of sex, food, drugs, and alcohol to satisfy her limitless curiosities. Stone’s performance, however, is far from one-note in which you “see the world through the eyes of,” as in the Forrest Gump variety. Bella is an evolving character who goes from a dependent to the full realization that she can be “a means of their own production.” 

The adaptation was written by Lanthimos’s collaborator Tony McNamara, whose script for The Favourite was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay. McNamara plots the film expertly, educating the viewer on the hypocrisy of women’s rights at the time. Bella was being treated as a child because of her undeveloped brain. The filmmakers embrace this visual metaphor of infantilization as a point of the standard limiting of the genders’ free will and independence.

Poor Things has much to say about social inequalities, identity, and relationships. However, you could argue, based on the source material and the testosterone levels of the filmmakers, that this is a film that almost mansplains themes without a feminist theoretical lens. Yes, it’s overindulgent and overbearing, especially when you realize the production value graduates into the Wes Anderson Masterclass territory. However, that’s the unapologetic Lanthimos experience that makes him one of the most unique filmmakers working today.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Thanksgiving’ is a New Holiday Classic


Director: Eli Roth
Writers: Jeff Rendell and Eli Roth
Stars: Patrick Dempsey, Ty Olsson, Gina Gershon

Synopsis: After a Black Friday riot ends in tragedy, a mysterious Thanksgiving-inspired killer terrorizes Plymouth, Massachusetts – the birthplace of the infamous holiday.


The Black Friday scene that opens Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving is already a classic: mindless humans who don’t ask questions but consume product and get excited for the next product await in a flock in front of a store opening early for some sweet, sweet deals. The store opens in ten minutes, but the rage from our consumers grows larger as they wait to be let in and save money on their consumption to benefit the pockets of corporate America. 

The owner of that store, Thomas Wright (Rick Hoffman), is excited at the prospect of enriching his pockets at the expense of a society that turns into mindless zombies as soon as deals are laid out. A free waffle maker for the first 100 people who consume? How exciting! However, for Mitch Collins (Ty Olsson), not so much. The store’s general manager has to miss his Thanksgiving dinner to supervise its Black Friday. Only two security guards are positioned to calm down an ever-growing and ever-raging crowd. 

When Thomas’ daughter, Jessica (Nell Verlaque), and her group of friends enter the store by cutting the line and get to spend their money a few minutes before the store opens, bedlam ensues, and what follows is the most scathing indictment of Black Friday ever put on film. Its satire may be on the nose, but Roth turns an already nightmarish situation for underpaid employees and store managers all over America (at first, now the world’s joined in on the madness) into a literal nightmare: the enraged consumers attack the mall with all of their fury, shoving themselves into corners, ripping their hair out, and stomping on themselves, all so they can be the first to get something free

For the first time in his directorial career, Eli Roth has something to say. His previous pieces of work, while heavily inspired by some of the greatest exploitation filmmakers who ever lived, pushed buttons for the sake of pushing buttons. Even his remake of Michael Winner’s Death Wish stripped the nihilism and blunt social commentary from the original movie (until subsequent installments became farcical cartoons that glorified the use of guns to the extreme) into a formless actioner that was highly violent but didn’t do much to examine Paul Kersey’s (Bruce Willis) descent into darkness. 

We had to wait until his adaptation of one of the fake trailers playing in front of Quentin Tarantino & Robert Rodriguez’s Grindhouse for Roth to actually have something interesting to say about the state of our current consumerist society. We are all vultures who knowingly feed into the corporate machine as they continue to profit off our backs while we buy mindless things to fill in some gap in ourselves that will be worth nothing once we pass on from this world. It was already obvious in films like George A. Romero’s Dawn of the Dead, but Roth’s approach to this message, with a penchant for clear and explicit violence, has never felt more timely and urgent. Look at the way we treat one another and the way we behave when we hear the words Black Friday, a “holiday” created by the powers that be to make us fight for things that will ultimately be worth nothing. But since we must obey and consume, the holiday must go on. 

After this incredibly direct and angry cold open where Roth shows audiences how much he’s matured as a filmmaker, transforming a peaceful mall into total purgatory for massive shock and enlightenment, Thanksgiving grinds to a halt as it cuts to a year later. But it’s a welcomed halt as it establishes the main characters still grappling with the effects of a traumatizing event. As preparations for this year’s Thanksgiving celebrations are underway, a killer begins to enact his revenge on the ones responsible for the Black Friday tragedy of last year. Sheriff Eric Newlon (Patrick Dempsey) is on the case, as he finds out that the killer is specifically targeting Jessica and her friends, tagging them in posts on Instagram with a dinner table with their names written on each chair. 

It’s a race against time to figure out who is doing the murders before more bodies pile up. And while the rest of the movie is far more conventional in its storytelling and even gets far too predictable with its multiple red herrings, Thanksgiving remains largely entertaining. Its core plot is a beat-for-beat re-tread of Wes Craven’s Scream, but when the kills are thoroughly vicious in their execution and creative in their staging, does it really matter? Sure, it’s incredibly easy to guess who the killer is, even when Roth tries to divert attention by making Jessica’s love interests, Bobby (Jalen Thomas Brooks) and Ryan (Milo Manheim), the alleged suspects, but it’s far too obvious to be obvious if you catch my drift. 

As such, it, unfortunately, loses the momentum that Roth built in its opening scene, but he still has something to say as the town realizes their mistake, which greatly affects the main characters, minus Thomas, who hopes the consuming will resume once morale improves. He also gets some really good performances from his actors, most notably Dempsey, who revels in the camp of Sheriff Newlon and that thick Boston accent selling it. But I was particularly impressed by Addison Rae, who has never had her time to shine on screen in the unwatchable He’s All That. But she’s particularly effective as Gabby, one of Jessica’s best friends. Manheim also impresses, though his arc is truncated near the movie’s latter half when it could’ve blossomed into something far more active than what we have. 

But the real star of the picture is Roth himself, who finally manages to make something worth our time. He showed signs of artistic maturity with the kiddie horror flick The House with a Clock in its Walls. But in Thanksgiving, he finally blends his flair for the grotesque with a poignant social commentary that will always ring true as the years go by. I can absolutely see this film becoming a new holiday classic, solely on its opening scene, finally shedding light on the most horrific day of the year, where we all act like soulless Romerian zombies for those discounts. I get it, but let’s act civilized for once. It’s just a damn PS5. 

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Saltburn’ Climbs The Social Ladder


Director: Emerald Fennell
Writer: Emerald Fennell
Stars: Barry Keoghan, Jacob Elordi, Rosamund Pike

Synopsis: A student at Oxford University finds himself drawn into the world of a charming and aristocratic classmate, who invites him to his eccentric family’s sprawling estate for a summer never to be forgotten.


After her Oscar-winning Promising Young Woman, Emerald Fennell is back with a story that is more wild and filled with performances by an ensemble who go all in to the very end. Obviously, her taste is writing dark comedies mixed with mind-f**king results and she takes it back to the upper classes of Britain with this debaucherous tale. Barry Keoghan plays Oliver Quick, a student at Oxford in 2006 who comes from a tough background, namely his parents are recovering addicts. Oliver is a bit socially awkward and seemingly desires to get with a higher clique when he spots Felix, (Jacob Elordi) a popular, wealthy student who takes a liking to him. Towards the end of the semester, when Felix learns that Oliver’s father has died, he lends his sympathy by inviting Oliver to his home, the titular Saltburn country house.

Upon arrival, Oliver is met by Felix’s parents, Sir James and Lady Elsbeth, played by Richard E. Grant and Rosamund Pike, respectively. Mixing in is Felix’s sister Venetia (Alison Oliver), Felix’s half-American cousin Farleigh (Archie Madekwe), and Elsbeth’s friend Pamela (Carey Mulligan), who has outstayed her welcome, yet hangs on staying with the “it” crowd. Farleigh doesn’t have empathy for Oliver and gives his warning to him to that Felix is someone who will cut anyone loose once he is bored of them. Yet, Oliver is invited into Felix’s summer fun which includes huge parties and sunbathing naked as a group.

Where Promising Young Woman is about getting revenge, Saltburn is about climbing the social ladder and usurping affluence from another family. Fennell prods the family dynamics of aristocracy with wickedness and a character, Oliver, totally influenced by The Talented Mr. Ripley. While she sticks the landing with its last twist in the end, Fennell takes a little too long to get there, hampering the flow of the story. The beats in between take on too much water rather than getting into rhythm, almost like it is relying on Linus Sandgren’s beautiful cinematography to keep the story going. The things that carry the film are the audacious performances by the ensemble.

Keoghan doesn’t hold back in his character, who willingly performs outrageous acts that, based on your type of humor, will either have you gagging or cracking up. It’s opposite to the dim-witted character he played in The Banshees of Inisherin and just goes for it. Elordi is having a year with this film and Priscilla as Elvis Presley, but Saltburn has him with a piece of his TV character Nate Jacobs from the series Euphoria. Pike as Elsbeth absolutely steals some scenes with her cold demeanor (“Oh, how wonderful!”) towards others without pulling punches, especially towards Pamela. 

In the end, Saltburn burns a bit too long, but has enough of the English countryside to bring us in like Downton Abbey. Except there is no class and taste, just lies and too much alcohol as Felix finds out quite easily. It’s a naughty film featuring hedonists who want power and favorability, almost like Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Favorite, but without the royal connection. Yet, the modernity of high-class scandal is always present and it becomes a juicy subject of Emerald Fennell’s eye and Barry Keoghan’s seductive presence, as exclaimed in the film’s dancing finale.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Bye Bye Barry’ Fails To Answer Interesting Questions


Directors: Paul Monusky, Micaela Powers, and Angela Torma
Stars: Tim Allen, Bill Belichick, Jeff Daniels

Synopsis: The definitive story of Barry Sanders’ Hall-of-Fame career and his extraordinary decision to walk away from the game in the prime of his career.


It was one of the most shocking decisions in pro football history when Barry Sanders retired. Why would a man in the prime of his career walk away after ten stellar seasons in the National Football League? Including being in striking distance from breaking one of the most coveted records in professional sports, Walter Payton’s NFL career mark for rushing yards. It was so controversial at the time that for years, networks like ESPN followed the man’s every retired move. The problem with Bye Bye Barry is that, even though it offers insight from a notoriously reclusive athlete, decades later, with what we know about American professional football, you may wonder why he didn’t leave sooner.

The documentary attempts to offer answers to that unanswered question. The fact that Sanders played ten straight seasons and never had less than 1,000 yards rushing had the look of a disgruntled athlete who wanted out of his contract to play for a contender. There were rumors that the documentary never addressed. For one, a story tracked for months was the Miami Dolphins attempting to coax Sanders out of retirement.

The Detroit Lions, who are notoriously unforgiving regarding their athletic alums, would not relinquish their rights. Directors Paul Monusky, Micaela Powers, and Angela Torma (yes, three of them) do an excellent job of outlining the legendary running back’s confusion and disdain for the organization’s tactics toward their best players. So much so that you’d have difficulty walking away from Bye Bye Barry without concluding this was the reason and also a strategy.

However, considering the physical and emotional toll the sport has on athletes and the lifespan of running backs, which is only 2.65 years (lower than other players and considering the decade Sanders thrived in), it’s not at all surprising. He’s a man who lived through two of the worst injuries in NFL history (former Lion players Mike Utley and Reggie Brown). It would put any man’s life in perspective, especially with a family waiting for him. Some of these points are brought up and come out of the Hall of Famer’s mouth, but if you watch closely and listen intently, they are never confirmed.

And that’s the problem you should have with the film. The documentary hardly offers any more insight from the day Sanders left the NFL to the day filming Prime Video called it a wrap. There are too many pointless interviews with celebrities like Jeff Daniels, Eminem, and, of all people, Tim Allen, to provide expert “context” on why Sanders was the greatest running back ever. The filmmakers have a limited sense of football history, considerably affecting the picture’s structure.

Sanders’s time at Oklahoma State is largely ignored and should have played a more prominent part. For one, he was stuck behind another Hall of Famer running back in the Buffalo Bills, Thurman Thomas. Even though the film shows a handful of highlights against the legendary AFC team of that decade, the former teammate was never mentioned. In fact, instead of a three-headed running back monster, which was the last time running backs dominated the NFL, Sanders is only compared to Emmitt Smith. Exploring this relationship and spending more time with his college career would have tightened the film considerably.

Other insights should be approached and answered if you do not answer that fundamental question. For one, Sanders had to share the NFL MVP with Brett Favre even though he ran for 2,000 yards (only the second person to do so) in a league dominated by African-American athletes. Yet, he only won the award 22% of the time in the Super Bowl era. 

How about the unforgettable moment he fell asleep on the bench during a game? This is incredibly relevant since the film portrays the players as egoless, often pulling themselves out of games to give others a chance. Or all pertinent insight into why his father called him the third-best running back in NFL history during his Hall of Fame introduction speech? 

No, we don’t have to probe the psychological damage done by overbearing fathers in every narrative feature. Still, perhaps it’s even more fascinating how Sanders maturely worked through the situation instead of letting it scar him for life. 

If anyone deserves a money-grab puff piece, it’s Barry Sanders because, by all accounts, he’s an MVP of being a good and decent man, which is hard to find when it comes to superstardom these days. However, that doesn’t make Bye Bye Barry good, interesting, or worth your time.

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘Next Goal Wins’ is Another Shallow Sports Cliche


Director: Taika Waititi
Writers: Taikia Waititi, and Iain Morris
Stars: Michael Fassbender, Will Arnett, Elisabeth Moss

Synopsis: The story of the infamously terrible American Samoa soccer team, known for a brutal 2001 FIFA match they lost 31-0.


There are few words to describe what a tedious and manipulative experience Next Goal Wins really is, but I’ll try to write about 500 to 600 words on the subject. The new Taika Waititi proves one fact about the mercurial director behind films such as Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Thor: Love and Thunder (2022), and Jojo Rabbit: Too much Waititi can be bad for you because the director tries to pass off limited talent with heart. If only he had brought enough heart to the filmmaking process to even out the sentimental cartoonishness of the final product.

Written by Waititi and Iain Morris and based on the documentary of the same name, Next Goal Wins follows real-life figure Thomas Rongen (Michael Fassbender), a soccer coach who was MLS Coach of the Year in the league’s inaugural season in 1996. However, Rongen fell on hard times after a blissful welcome into the head manager profession. He is letting go of coaching the United States national team. Suddenly, Rongen finds himself with nowhere to go until his ex-wife Gail (Elisabeth Moss) and the member of the board (Will Arnett) pull some strings.

Rognen is given the keys to the manager position of American Samoa, a plucky bunch who are not so much soccer hooligans as they are roligans of the world’s most popular sport. The players are calm and friendly and always look at shortcomings or obstacles through a positive lens. Even though the team has only one single game in international play, they are ranked dead last in the world rankings, and in the last tournament game they participated in, they lost 31-0 to Australia.

Some of the cast can be likable, particularly New Zealand comedian Oscar Kightley, but the writing is so shallow, and one note hardly matters. Knightly plays Tavita, the executive of the Samoa team, who also runs a restaurant and is the camera operator of the island’s most popular reality show, “Why’d You Come Here?” His attitude can be infectious, and it’s meant to balance out Fassbender’s toxic coach’s antics. The problem is that the character needed to be more Bad News Bears Coach Buttermaker to equal out all that positivity.

Many are pointing out Next Goal Wins’s faults in Ted Lasso’s success. Imagine a cynical bunch of cinephiles so angry about a trend of positivity in film and television that it becomes a turn-off. However, that’s not the problem with Waititi’s film. The fact is, the movie has nothing new to offer other than the typical cliche-filled sports picture.

A much more interesting (and even fascinating) part of the story is Jaiyah Saelua (played wonderfully by Kaimana). They are an American Samoan footballer who was the first non-binary transgender athlete to compete in a FIFA World Cup qualifying match. Kaimana and Fassbender have a natural rapport, mainly when Kaimana can convey the experiences, struggles, and challenges an athlete like this will deal with internally. Unfortunately, nothing is said about the external biases they must have faced.

You may argue that Next Goal Wins brings a time-tested and tested winning formula back to cinemas that shouldn’t be tinkered with. The problem with that ideology, like any success, is that it can be copied and repeated over time until it loses its effectiveness. Waititis’s film is a shell of that concept by playing it too safe and only offering surface-level insight into characters hardly ever examined in film or television. 

Instead of offering this course correction, Next Goal Wins drives down the middle of middling. A film is hardly zany or wacky enough to be funny, mature, and honest enough to get the audience to care. 

Grade: C-

Movie Review (FCEPR 2023): ‘About Dry Grasses’ is an Immaculate Character Study


Director: Nuri Bilge Ceylan
Writers: Akin Aksu, Ebru Ceylan, Nuri Bilge Ceylan
Stars: Deniz Celiloglu, Merve Dizdar, Musab Ekici

Synopsis: A young teacher hopes to be appointed to Istanbul after mandatory duty at a small village. After a long time waiting he loses all hope of escaping from this gloomy life. However, his colleague Nuray helps him to regain perspective.


Demanding both in its multi-layered subject matter and lengthy canvas, Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s About Dry Grasses is a verbose yet thought-provoking character study on broken people and their means of expression towards a world that has “betrayed” them, containing two of the best dialogue set-pieces I have seen this year in its piercing third act. 

Is Nuri Bilge Ceylan the modern version of Andrei Tarkovsky? This question has seemed to pop up quite often when discussing the Turkish filmmaker’s oeuvre, more so after the release of his 2018 feature, The Wild Pear Tree. Ceylan has commented on Tarkovsky’s work before; his experiences watching Solaris and Mirror have changed from being baffled to naming them some of the best films of all time, specifically the latter, which he has watched more than twenty times. Although plenty of aspects separate these two cinematic maestros, the comparison is quite applicable. The contemplative nature of Ceylan matches with Tarkovsky’s doleful narratives. While Tarkovsky often uses sci-fi and surrealist elements to move forward his stories and create a dreamy and melancholic haze, Ceylan constructs his own with two main ingredients: silence in its atmosphere to cause unease and a verbose screenplay. 

The two create lengthy, complex, poetic pictures that remain in your head for days, weeks, and even months after watching them. That’s what unites Ceylan and Tarkovsky – curating melancholy through a beautiful landscape and awe-inspiring technique. And if you weren’t convinced about the comparison yet, Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s latest, About Dry Grasses, will do so, as it is yet another philosophical and immaculate character study that unpacks questions about belief, toxic masculinity, and the fatigue of hoping for a better life. The film centers around Samet (Deniz Celiloğlu), a thirty-year-old art teacher who wants to move from his current position. He’s currently in the small town of Icesu – where everybody knows everybody – and has his mind set on Istanbul, a place he deems would bring him better opportunities. 

He isn’t in that village by choice; like most of its residents, he is there serving a mandatory service. In his case, Samet is teaching children at a secondary school. He hopes that what comes after his limited stay in the remote town of Eastern Anatolia will be better, as he quotes early on: “From the day I arrived, all I thought about was leaving.” Samet longs for the days when he can freely roam around in a more prominent (and prosperous) place. At least his work proceeds him, as he’s beloved by everybody. They hold him in high regard even though he states out loud that he doesn’t want to be there. Hence, we see plenty of scenes where he’s passing the time by any means necessary, whether drinking tea and eating cheese pastries or taking photographs of the villagers and plains. 

There’s a palpable feeling of emptiness oozing from Samet’s core whenever he is by his lonesome or quiet. He isn’t hopeless or completely shattered mentally. But Samet constantly yearns for a better life instead of embracing what’s right in front of him. It keeps him at a distance from his co-workers and the townsfolk. The only people he seems to have faith in are his students, precisely his favorite one, Sevim (Ece Bağcı). When they are on-screen together, you notice his change of personality. Samet opens up to her about every question she has, sometimes overstepping his boundaries and her privacy, which paves the way for an incident at the school. Sevim accuses Samet and fellow teacher Kenan (Musab Ekici) of inappropriate behavior because he wouldn’t return her love letter, which was confiscated during an inspection. 

We see him erupting, forging a nihilistic attitude that holds his contempt for Icesu on his shoulders. Celiloğlu creates a multilayered performance in which he balances nihilism and angst with the self-assured persona we saw during the first moments and self-righteousness. He has a challenging role in this film, and Celiloğlu manages that tethering of emotions with a ton of proficiency. His performance feels natural and calculated – as the dialogue sequences arrive one after the other, you sense each emotional note from his expressions. It is hard to state how complex his role is and how well he manages it without missing a single beat. Nuri Bilge Ceylan, alongside co-writers Ebru Ceylan (his wife) and Akın Aksu, leaves the audience questioning whether or not Sevim’s love letter is addressed to Samet. 

This specific and important detail is left ambiguous because the film doesn’t focus on that part of the narrative. About Dry Grasses focuses more on the reaction and shattering realizations of belief, culpability, responsibility, and loneliness. The letter arrives as a kill-switch in the means of Thomas Vinterberg’s The Hunt. But it’s more of a segment that helps the rest of the film and its ideas come to fruition. With this note, we learn the harsh reality and darkness of Samet’s boiling solace. Through the letter and his connection with other characters, we see a deeper glance into his psyche and ideology. Two specific people in his life will provide us with this exploration of a love triangle between Kenan and a teacher from another school, Nuray (Cannes Best Actress-winner Merve Dizdar). 

It isn’t your typical encounter of lovelorn souls but rather a psychological duel. She isn’t playing the role of a savior who rescues Samet from his solemnity. Nuray will challenge him in all regards, Ceylan creating plenty of lengthy confrontative dialogue set-pieces – two of which are some of the best written of the year. Each conversation is like a different stage in Samet’s existential and spiritual crisis. His anti-hero persona, which Ceylan applies to his most interesting characters, is questioned in ways he didn’t expect to; Samet slowly realizes that there’s solace within his alienation deep inside. During the last act of the film, Nuray and Samet have a thought-provoking and profound discussion on politics, negligence, conviction, and everything in between. And in one moment of silence, something strange happens. 

Samet becomes so enraptured with the psychological toll this chat is having on his mind that he needs to take a breather. He does so via a fourth-wall break that’s disruptive and piercing. It removes the magic of cinema to showcase the effects of the lines not only on the character but also on the actor playing him. The coating of fiction is removed for a second so the audience and Celiloğlu can clear their minds. It is nothing short of brilliant; I have never seen such a thing come out of nowhere, leaving everyone in the cinema speechless. That moment in About Dry Grasses caused everyone to gather and become entranced with the lyrical mind of Ceylan. Despite its three-hour-and-a-half runtime, you never feel the length of the film’s canvas. 

You are so intrigued by these characters and their ways of thinking that you would want to see more of their personal conversations. This is a pessimistic picture with occasional comedic language that rips apart the essence of a fractured male ego. About Dry Grasses is a dissertation on many topics told through a dialogue-heavy and demanding procedure we are accustomed to seeing in Nuri Bilge Ceylan’s filmography. The Turkish filmmaker creates a web of complex yet beautifully humanistic and elegiac sequences. He is a master director of his class, deserving of every inch of praise given to him. 

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Wish’ Dazzles with Musical Numbers


Director: Chris Buck and Fawn Veerasunthorn
Writers: Jennifer Lee, Allison Moore, and Chris Buck
Stars: Ariana DeBose, Chris Pine, and Alan Tudyk

Synopsis: Wish will follow a young girl named Asha who wishes on a star and gets a more direct answer than she bargained for when a trouble-making star comes down from the sky to join her.


Wish, the new Walt Disney Animation Studios picture, is a warm and winning animated film that acts as an origin story for the studio’s legendary filmography. While incorporating classic Disney themes and clever nostalgia, Chris Buck (Frozen I and II) and Fawn Veerasunthorn (Raya and the Last Dragon) put a fresh spin on classic Disney themes, albeit with a wink at recycled material.

The story follows young Asha (Oscar-winner Ariana DeBose), a precocious 17-year-old wise beyond her years. Asha is celebrating her “Sabino’s” (Victor Garber) 100th birthday, as is her mother, Sakina (Natasha Rothwell). She’s young, energetic, and beloved by her community of Rosas. The young woman represents all the hopes and dreams of their family because, simply, they have none of their own.

That’s because a sorcerer King Magnifico (Chris Pine), manages everyone’s wishes and is in charge of whose very dreams come true. Luckily for Asha, she is interviewing for a job as his assistant. They immediately hit it off, having a natural rapport. However, Asha sees Sabino’s wish floating in the royal palace. She can’t help but ask the King if he could grant her grandfather’s Wish on his special day. However, Magnifico declines.

His explanation? Granting such a wish may be too much for the old man to handle and disrupt the peaceful balance of the community. As Magnifico says, “Imagine a place where wishes come true, where your heart’s desire can become a reality. What if I told you that place was within reach? All you have to do is give your Wish… to me.” It dawns on Asha that the ruler has no intention of giving back the wishes to Rosas, effectively never allowing people’s hopes to shape their futures.

Buck and Veerasunthorn’s film, with the help of a clever screenplay from Frozen collaborator Jennifer Lee and Allison Moore (Night Sky), takes off when it begins to act as an origin story for the greedy Mouse’s legendary filmography. For example, after Asha is dismayed by the King’s action, she, yes, wishes “upon a star,” causing a cosmic event seen throughout the kingdom. The result is an adorable ball of energy called “Star” that magically comes to life, shaking the lives of the Rosas community. Star begins to bring objects to life and allows animals to talk, like Asha’s beloved goat, Valentino, voiced by the scene-stealing Alan Tudyk.

The animation will be much talked about, with the filmmakers using digital techniques to give Wish a look of hand-drawn images (or storybook drawings) to evoke appreciation from diehard Disney fans. However, while the effort is appreciated, the visuals of Wish have a Saturday morning cartoon look that’s almost jarring initially until the artistry becomes whimsical. In an era of animated choices in the last few years, where studios mix and match styles and take bold chances, Disney has pandered and played it too safe here.

However, what Wish does have are some dazzling musical numbers. My favorite is Chris Pine’s thoroughly enjoyable “This is the Thanks I Get,” which is pure Disney magic. And, of course, the gifted DeBose’s show-stopping “This Wish” will surely bring goosebumps to diehards and casual fans alike. “A Wish Worth Making” is a worthy closing number for any Disney animated feature.
Wish isn’t a classic by any means, but it has a chance to develop a worthy following. For one, films with lasting legs are always defined by younger generations. And Disney fans will love the nods and origins of the timeless classics, which will bring generations together. Along with what I’m sure will be a massive sale of plush toy “Stars” in the future, Wish is a wonderful holiday treat for the entire family.

Grade: B

Movie Review (FCEPR 2023): ‘The Universal Theory is a Cluttered Combination of Film Noir and Sci-Fi


Director: Timm Kröger
Writers: Roderick Warich and Timm Kröger
Stars: Jan Bulow, Olivia Ross, Hanns Zischler

Synopsis: The year of 1962. A physics congress in the Alps. An Iranian guest. A mysterious pianist. A bizarre cloud formation in the sky and a booming mystery under the mountain. THE THEORY OF EVERYTHING. A quantum mechanical thriller in black and white.


Timm Kröger blends past and present with old and new cinematic aesthetics in his latest work, The Universal Theory (Die Theorie Von Allem). Both in its ideas and stylistic choices, sci-fi and film noir are combined with the modern narrative obsession of the multiverse to create an oddly fascinating yet ultimately cluttered project. 

For a couple of years now, the multiverse has been a notion that everybody has been obsessed with, and there’s some understanding of that craze. There are many directions that concept can travel. You can center it around a doomed love story, a dangerous escapade through the various galaxies, or even an action-drama-comedy picture about a mother and daughter. The multiverse can serve as a guide for very interesting stories. However, rather unfortunately, it seems like the idea has been running dry due to its poor and lazy use, with most directors relying on the same old cinematic design and themes. We have grown used to such things, as the same happened with time travel in the past decades. There’s always this fascination with a sci-fi-related conception that everybody wants to get their hands on, losing steam as the years go by. 

Right out of nowhere, Timm Kröger arrives with The Universal Theory, which finds a compelling use of the multiverse craze. The German filmmaker literally uses the intrigue of scientific belief as the core of the film’s web-like combinations of genre (sci-fi, film noir, romance) and tone (claustrophobic, gloomy, and occasionally intimate). He doesn’t focus much on the theories or mechanics of this topic. Instead, Kröger prefers to dwell within the film’s cinematic inspirations. In a way, that weird concoction does service to its curious demeanor as well as diminishes its overall coherence – both drawing the viewer to seek the film out and leaving them at a distance upon finishing it. This tale is about tunnels underneath the Swiss Alps that make people travel through time and maybe (or not) lovers stuck in this array of mysterious happenings. It is a mess, but at least one worth watching.

The Universal Theory begins in 1974, when we see Johannes Leinert (Jan Bulow) being interviewed on a German television show for his new book, ‘The Theory of Everything’. He is trying to explain the logistics of the book and its multiverse topics to the crowd and guests but to no success. Everyone is taking it as a joke, seeing his work as a tale of fiction rather than the “true story” it is based on. So, Johannes decides to cut the interview short and leave the program, ending with a message dedicated to a woman named Karin, whom he’s been seeking for ages. There’s some sort of odd tension both in the studio and in the film’s atmosphere after his decision to leave, one that creates intrigue on what exactly he is referring to and whether or not his story is true. 

After this, the film’s setting switches to twelve years earlier, changing the look from color to stunning monochrome. Johannes is preparing to leave his home for a couple of weeks with this doctoral advisor, Dr. Julius Strathen (Hanns Zischler), to a scientific congress in the Swiss Alps, where an Iranian scientist is going to deliver a lecture about an astonishing new subject, relating to quantum mechanics, that will change how we perceive life as a whole. Dr. Strathen is quite stern and very honest about everything; he can be perceived as a grump occasionally, but the man just wants a break and the best for Johannes. During the train ride to Switzerland, he encounters one of his past colleagues, Professor Blumberg (Gottfried Breitfuß), who is the opposite of Strathen personality-wise. Blumberg is charismatic and comical, indulging in drinks and drugs to make his stay at the conference a more enjoyable one. 

Strathen can’t stand him; hence, he tells Johannes to stay away from him so he can focus on his paper. Johannes is excited about this new experience and to see how his thesis on parallel universes holds its weight. However, things don’t go as planned, as the notable scientist doesn’t arrive at the conference, canceling the event in the mountains and Johannes’ manuscript is riddled with notes by Dr. Strathen questioning his research. In addition, he has found himself distracted by a piano player named Karin (Olivia Ross). During their first encounter, Johannes states that he has seen her but can’t recall exactly where. At first, she doesn’t seem interested in him and the probability of them meeting prior to the conference. But, as the mysteries begin to entangle with one another, the two start to connect, for better or worse. 

This leads Johannes into a web of mysteries that involve avalanches, weird cloud formations, brutal murders, and a multiverse portal. Timm Kröger uses sci-fi as the catalyst for his mysteries but relies on film noir to develop the story and the characters. It feels like The Third Man, yet with a plot that revolves around parallel universes. The film has a slightly original concept but, at the very least (and most importantly), feels fresh and innovative with its narrative playfulness. The German filmmaker is bold and dedicated, crafting plenty of intrigue in its first act to keep its momentum going for the following two. You question where the film is going. This isn’t because you are frustrated; it is because you’re anxious to see where it is heading. The curiosity of its narrative webbing grows stronger as new characters are introduced into the scene. 

That feeling, unfortunately, doesn’t last long. The second half of The Universal Theory becomes a mish-mash of rushed concepts put one on top of the other. Boldly so, Kröger puts all his ideas onto the table and sees what sticks. And all of them do so individually. The problem is that collectively, they don’t work as planned. Kröger becomes so enamored with the concept that he forcefully wants to connect everything, no matter the cost of its narrative coherence. As Johannes dives deeper into the rabbit hole of potential space-time travel to uncover what exactly is occurring, the viewer grows less engrossed – the interest diminishing rapidly compared to the first act. It is an exercise in doing too much when less is more. While I still admire the ambitiousness of Kröger’s direction, and I believe that The Universal Theory will find its noir pulp audience, there’s too much clutter to fix what was previously fascinating. 

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘Trolls Band Together’ is Harmless


Director: Walt Dohrn
Writers Elizabeth Tippet
Stars: Justin Timberlake, Anna Kendrick, Eric André

Synopsis: Poppy discovers that Branch was once part of the boy band ‘BroZone’ with his brothers, Floyd, John Dory, Spruce, and Clay. When Floyd is kidnapped, Branch and Poppy embark on a journey to reunite his two other brothers and rescue Floyd.


Regarding commercial entertainment, the Trolls franchise seems to be the least offensive piece of IP that Universal loves to milk, even if its third installment, Trolls Band Together, gets unsurprisingly egregious at times. Still, it’s a large step above the first sequel, Trolls World Tour, which cranked the commercial references to the extreme and forgot to tell a decent story despite fun animation. 

Trolls Band Together is more restrained in its commercial references, but they’re the film’s weakest parts when they come and go. Direct lines like “We’re not in sync. We’ve gone from boys to men, and now there’s only one direction for us to go: the backstreets” can be funny for those who equate cinema to theme park rides and do the Rick Dalton pointing meme when they catch something they understand from another piece of media that others don’t, but it’s not particularly inspiring in the context of the movie. 

Of course, the film’s story is plucked out of Justin Timberlake’s boy band days and sees him reunite with members of *NSYNC to write an original song for the first time in over twenty years. Lance Bass, JC Chasez, Joey Fatone, and Chris Kirkpatrick also appear in the movie as Trolls to sing the song, which is fine and all, but you can tell how director Walt Dohrn seems more interested in the third film as a “brand extension” piece of content whose commercial appeal is stronger than its story when the main plot is far more interesting than any of the commercial stuff shoved in front of our eyes (in 3D). 

The gist of the plot is simple but done effectively well: Branch (Justin Timberlake) reunites with his brother John Dory (Eric André) after he learns that their brother Floyd (Troye Sivan) was captured by hack singers Velvet (Amy Schumer) and Veneer (Andrew Rannells), who steal the magic of the Trolls to improve their singing voices vastly. Floyd is trapped in a diamond prison and can only be freed by the “Perfect Family Harmony,” which was attempted once by Branch and his brothers when they were in the boy band BroZone but failed miserably. However, now that Floyd is in danger, Branch, Poppy (Anna Kendrick), John Dory, and Tiny Diamond (Kenan Thompson) look for Spruce (Daveed Diggs) and Clay (Kid Cudi) to bring the band back together and finally attempt the Perfect Family Harmony one more time. 

In that adventure, Poppy also meets her long-lost sister, Viva (Camilla Cabello), who has a vendetta against Bergens and kidnaps King Gristle (Christopher Mintz-Plasse) and his wife Bridget (Zooey Deschanel) while are on their honeymoon. Dohrn tries to do too much in such a tight runtime (92 minutes) that the Viva subplot seems more like an afterthought instead of enhancing the main plot. It’s almost as if screenwriter Elizabeth Tippet thought the story focused too much on Branch’s past that the film also needed to introduce a newer batch of Trolls to the mix. As a result, the movie doesn’t spend enough time with Viva for the audience to care much about their relationship, while Branch’s story gets the flashback cold open and the spotlight from beginning to end. 

Arguably, Branch’s story is the film’s most exciting part because it’s the most developed aspect of the movie. Timberlake brings lots of heart to his portrayal of the character, just as he did in the past two movies, and the addition of Eric André, Daveed Diggs, Kid Cudi, and Troye Sivan to the film is also terrific. Branch has an incredibly believable chemistry with each member of BroZone that we ultimately feel for the characters as they travel to save Floyd. There’s an emotional center that none of the Trolls movies have achieved until now that made this movie feel more human and alive as opposed to purely commercial fodder for Trolls to sing known pop songs. 

It’s also a visually rich movie, with stunning animation and fast-paced action sequences. One scene, in particular, sees the character move from 3D animation to 2D as they travel down the Hustle Dimension, where Joseph Shirley’s Hustle theme starts playing and puts the audience in an increasingly trippy mood. It’s incredibly jubilant and the franchise’s most artistically stirring scene yet. It is also integral to its climax, which was a welcomed surprise. However, it’s not a movie worth the extra money for the 3D experience. At its best, a few elements pop out of the screen, but at its worst, the image is consistently flat, with desaturated colors because of the murky glasses you put in front of your eyes. 

Its villains could’ve been more fleshed-out, but they’re more comically entertaining than the previous antagonists in Trolls World Tour. Despite uninspired vocal turns from Rannells and Schumer, the Milli Vanilli-inspired framing device saves their arc, and there are legitimate emotional stakes at play regarding Floyd’s life as Velvet and Veneer continue to use his powers to feed their voices. With an impossible task at play, the ending could be seen a mile away, but its emotional impact is intensely felt, ultimately making the final moments of the picture like a satisfying coda for the Trolls franchise. We’re likely to get a fourth film because they have always been incredibly successful titles for DreamWorks, but I wouldn’t be mad if the studio decides to leave it as is. Sometimes, it’s best to end things while you’re on top and not before you start experiencing diminishing returns.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes’ Vividly Portrays Dystopia


Director: Francis Lawrence
Writers: Michael Lesslie, Michael Arndt, and Suzanne Collins
Stars: Tom Blyth, Rachel Zegler, Viola Davis

Synopsis: Coriolanus Snow mentors and develops feelings for the female District 12 tribute during the 10th Hunger Games.


On July 17, 2019, Suzanne Collins, the acclaimed author of The Hunger Games series, announced a new addition set to be released the following year. While her announcement excited many fans, the idea of exploring the rise of President Snow 64 years before the first novel puzzled some. Fans were curious about the decision to focus on a villain’s origin story rather than diving into the games of other beloved characters like Finnick, Johanna, or Haymitch.

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes was released on May 19, 2020, offering a compelling read during the pandemic. Any initial confusion about the chosen narrative was swiftly addressed by the author’s justification for the story. The narrative delves into how a violent and totalitarian government can mold an individual with an elevated ego into someone who exploits systems and the world around them, ingeniously oppressing others during the process of their rise to power. Despite pandemic-related delays, the film adaptation hit theaters, effectively translating this chilling narrative. It goes beyond a mere villain origin story to provide a stellar exploration of The Hunger Games world, delivering a chillingly realistic portrayal of how close this fictional world could come to reality.

In the early days of Panem, the Hunger Games experienced a decline in popularity among Capitol citizens, both in viewership and overall appeal. To revive interest, 24 young Capitol Academy students are assigned to mentor a tribute. A young Coriolanus Snow (Tom Blyth) is paired with District 12 tribute Lucy Gray Baird (Rachel Zegler), and as the narrative unfolds from the reaping ceremony to preparations for the games, the games themselves, and the extensive aftermath, Snow gradually develops feelings for her.

While the book follows a familiar pattern seen in other Hunger Games novels, adapting this comprehensive narrative into a single film proves challenging. Memories of the bloated Mockingjay Part 1 and Part 2 films from nearly a decade ago, which significantly slowed the overall series momentum, linger. Fortunately, The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes avoids this pitfall by condensing the entire story into a single two-and-a-half-hour film. However, it isn’t without its own drawbacks.

Structured into three parts, mirroring the format of the other novels, the film’s first two sections focus on the Hunger Games, while the third explores the repercussions faced by Snow. While each segment contributes to the narrative, transitioning from one tone to another proves arduous. The film’s length becomes noticeable during this third act, emerging as a significant drawback. The pacing slows down substantially, creating a stark and challenging shift from the tense and faster-paced style established in the Games. Once this narrative phase settles in, adapting to the film’s different style becomes easier. However, by the time this adjustment occurs, it’s already nearly two hours into the film, with another half-hour or 45 minutes left. Feeling the length becomes pronounced during this section, putting the viewer’s endurance to the test.

The film excels in vividly portraying the dystopian world that the inhabitants of futuristic Panem must navigate to survive. A stark contrast is evident between the early days of the Hunger Games, with tributes thrown into an amphitheater-like arena where games typically lasted only a day or two. The intricacies of Snow’s strategic maneuvers to achieve his goals, employing both moral and selfishly immoral means, present a captivating thought experiment. This is the kind of film that prompts viewers to engage in extensive discussions for days, offering sustained enjoyment even after leaving the theater.

The production maintains top-notch quality, rivaling the standout film of the original trilogy, Catching Fire. Hunter Schaffer and Viola Davis, in particular, distinguish themselves in the ensemble cast, while Tom Blythe and Rachel Zegler deliver commendable performances in the lead roles. However, condensing a substantial amount of material into a single film inevitably leads to some sacrifices in character development, resulting in several characters appearing more one-dimensional than desired. Notably, Snow himself assumes an almost protagonist role in the film, deviating from the morally complex character familiar to readers. For those who have only seen the films in the series, the connection from this version of Snow to the older one seen as president becomes almost incomprehensible.

Josh Andres Rivera’s character, Sejanus Plinth, Snow’s best friend, bears the brunt of these changes and transforms into an almost unbearable and annoying character as his actions become increasingly frustrating to follow. This transformation is a notable drawback arising from the challenge of compressing the narrative.

While The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes has its drawbacks, notably its extended length and some minor character adaptations that may come across as slight, the film still delivers rich entertainment suitable for a diverse audience. It reaffirms the film series’ popularity and its enduring presence in popular culture. The most intriguing aspect of the film lies in the underlying themes it attempts to convey, using the overarching plot as a digestible medium for these ideas. Timed for release during the Thanksgiving holiday, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes stands out as an ideal entertainment choice for those seeking an escape from home, quality time with family, or a blockbuster film experience at the theater.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Napoleon’ Falls Short of Expectations


Director: Ridley Scott
Writer: David Scarpa
Stars: Joaquin Phoenix, Vanessa Kirby, Tahar Rahim

Synopsis: An epic that details the checkered rise and fall of French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte and his relentless journey to power through the prism of his addictive, volatile relationship with his wife, Josephine.


One has to wonder why the great Ridley Scott has hitched his wagon to the recent scripts from a man best known for the remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still (2023), but he has. Maybe he lost a bet, or it’s an elaborate fraternity hazing prank. Either way, the legendary director of films such as Gladiator, Blade Runner, Prometheus, and The Martian does what he can with the material of his latest grand spectacle, Napoleon. It’s a movie with Mr. Scott’s trademark technical prowess, but when dealing with Le Petit Capora’s personal life, Napoleon falls, uh, short of expectations.

The story follows Napoleon Bonaparte’s (Joaquin Phoenix) rise to power after leading his troops to break the mighty British blockade. Napoleon’s military reputation was molded during the French Reign of Terror (a series of massacres and public executions in France as a response to uprisings). His cold, ruthless style was uncompromising toward all enemies, foreign and domestic. Propped up by Paul Barras (Tahar Rahim), the head of the Directory during the French Revolution, Bonaparte was a Brigadier General at the eye-opening age of 24. (The film conveniently skips over the fact that he was lieutenant colonel at the time.)

At this point, the film gets off to a stirring start with a remarkable invasion to secure cannons to break the British naval blockade. (Trust me, the shot of Napoleon’s ill-fated horse being brought down by a cannonball that can be held in one hand, even Bonaparte’s, is jaw-dropping.) From there, the script from David Scarpa explores the love of the general’s life, Joséphine de Beauharnais (Vanessa Kirby), the widow of a military officer who was a victim of the guillotine.

This is Scott’s 28th feature film, and “The Admiral” of big-budget historical (and science fiction) epics continues his mastery of innovative production design and atmospheric lighting that has made him a legend. You can see the craft with breathtaking, arresting visuals and the best wartime battlefield scenes since Braveheart. In fact, the scenes involving the Battle of Austerlitz are some of the finest this year. You wouldn’t think you could find a fresh angle for wartime spectacles, but Scott does with the help of Dariusz Wolski’s eye for Neuroclassic evocative visuals.

Still, Scott manages to find the human cost, which includes a stunning lack of empathy (the way he handles a rebel uprising is remarkably frank and will cause audible gasps) and the true genius of Bonaparte’s tactical mind. That’s the aspect of Scott’s film you can admire. Napoleon was one of the most brilliant military minds in the history of the world. A chess master in planning and execution, the man led global crusades.

This leads to the double-edged sword of Ridley Scott’s Napoleon. We are led to believe that a man who was beloved by his troops, so charismatic and a leader of men, including leading over 3,000,000 soldiers to their deaths over dozens of campaigns, was a sniveling, weaselly, and anxiety-ridden leader with little to no political instincts, which is a significant flaw in Scarpa’s script. This feels like a storytelling tool to add some needed comic relief to a film with more misses than hits. 

However, this leads to pulling the blanket over the myth of this titular figure and Josephine’s legendary romance that history has mythologized. Kirby’s character is nothing close to the one-note cinematic trope of the dutiful wife pulling a Keith Morrison lean in a doorway, listening to the love of her life’s troubles that only she can heal while never thinking of her own needs. Kirby’s Josephine has her own urges to quench. She can be cruel and selfish, but she is also his support system and loyal confidant.

Of course, similar to how most women were treated during the era, Napoleon only used his “love” to build his self-worth. He is overly possessive and jealous, suffocating their romance. From Commodus in Gladiator to Willie Guitierrez in The Yards, this is nothing new for Phoenix and a character he knows like the back of his hand. He expertly allows insecurities to unravel his life on the screen like no other actor of his generation.

Yet, the reason I describe Napoleon as falling short (besides the obvious pun, and per historians, he wasn’t prancing around like Lord Farquaad from Shrek) is that for all its grandeur and richness, the wartime narrative that runs parallel with the personal is wildly disjointed. They are both repetitive and offer very few surprises. This is because Scarpa’s script gives us less insight into why and how the man developed an ambitious thirst for control and power other than the usual cinematic cliches.

That’s the disconnect the viewer will ultimately feel as the movie jumps in and out of Napoleon’s life. While Napoleon is ultimately worth a mild recommendation because it’s a visual marvel and performances, the narrative ultimately fails to live up to the fascinating life of its subject.

And that’s essentially why the story matters and always will.

Grade: C+

Op-Ed: Andersonian Grief: Depression

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The following piece contains frank discussions of suicidal ideation and suicide attempts. If this type of discussion tends to upset you, please take care before continuing to read this piece.

WALT

I hope the roof flies off, and I get sucked into space. You’ll be better off without me.

LAURA

Stop feeling sorry for yourself.

WALT

Why?

LAURA

[sighing] We’re all they’ve got, Walt

WALT

That’s not enough.

We can sometimes see a physical manifestation of someone’s feelings. There are those of us who have a hard time not looking like how we’re feeling no matter how hard we try. We simply exude pain, joy, exhaustion, anxiety, fear, anger, and contentedness. It’s hard to tell what a character in a Wes Anderson film is thinking when we first meet them, they often have their faces at rest, but it’s likely they’re experiencing depression. Anderson builds this very human condition of being depressed into each and everyone of his films in some way. It ranges from mild ennui to ideations and attempts of suicide. For most Anderson characters, their grief cycle begins with depression. It’s how they experience the initial loss, whatever it may be.

In that case, this could be why people experience these films as cold and emotionless. The characters are often cynics and sometimes curmudgeons, but many are ambitious and passionate as well. What sets them apart is that these characters don’t learn life lessons that help them to be less sad. They start sad and they end sad. These films are about people attempting to cope. Some, like Herman Blume (Bill Murray, Rushmore) make poor decisions that push them further away from where they want to be. Some, like Moses Rosenthaler (Benicio Del Toro, The French Dispatch) attempt to bring attention to their problems by taking drastic measures rather than seeking help in a healthy way. Some deny, get angry, or bargain. Some combine it all together to attempt to move themselves on to something else.

Francis Whitman (Owen Wilson, The Darjeeling Limited) is one of these people that combines a lot of feelings at once to try and combat his depression. While all the Whitman brothers are all definitely depressed, Francis is the brother who is the most desperately down. He plans a spiritual journey for his brothers to bring them closer together (denial). He wants this trip not only to bring them closer, but to unite them with their estranged mother (bargaining). When things don’t work out or when someone dispels the magic of the occasion, Francis lashes out (anger). He uses it all as a smokescreen for what’s truly going on with him.

It isn’t until the three brothers are doing their preflight rituals in the airport restroom that Francis finally lets down his guard. In the shot, the camera looks out as if it’s the mirror in the restroom, a shot Anderson chooses for many of his films. Francis pulls off his bandages to reveal the extent of the damage to his face from the motorcycle accident. As they survey the damage, Francis tells his brothers that the accident was intentional, that he crashed his bike in a suicide attempt. As the brothers look at him through the lens of the mirror, then in their physical dimension, they suddenly see Francis and this trip differently. Francis has always seemed like the rock of their group and now, they see his vulnerability and permeability. He’s brought down for them and for us. Not out of pity, but out of respect do they follow him from there.

Pity is also the last thing Roebuck Wright (Jeffrey Wright, The French Dispatch) needs. He’s intelligent, witty, and verbose to name a few of his more excellent qualities. He just also happens to be gay and in the Andersonian universe that is a rare sight. There have been characters whose sexuality has been hinted at, Margot Tenenbaum (Gwyneth Paltrow, The Royal Tenenbaums) is seen in the arms of another woman, or Gustave (Ralph Fiennes, The Grand Budapest Hotel) who “goes to bed with all [his] friends,” which doesn’t deter, but encourages Dmitri (Adrien Brody) to even more vehemently hurl homophobic slurs his way. Then there’s Alistair Hennessey (Jeff Goldblum, The Life Aquatic), a character who is mocked, misunderstood, and maligned is often referred to as “half gay.” Yet, this is the first time in an Anderson film in which a gay character is allowed to define himself.

Unlike other gay characters, Roebuck Wright isn’t a tragic gay in the way of queer best friends through movie history. He is the mover of his own destiny and his depression from grief isn’t due to the fact that he’s gay, but in the fact that he can’t live the life he wants even if he’s honest about who he is. He tries to tamp that depression down through his work. It’s only his editor, Arthur Howitzer, Jr. (Bill Murray) who can see through the words and asks why he didn’t include the best part of the piece. Roebuck tosses it off as too sad. Arthur says he needs to include it.

The scene Roebuck removed is of himself sitting with the poisoned and now recovering Nescaffier (Stephen Park), who tells Roebuck of a taste he had in his mouth. For the chef, this taste was something otherworldly, beautiful, and fleeting because he tasted it in the depths of the poison he used to defeat the kidnappers. In that moment, Roebuck understands that his life, the life he wants for himself, is fleeting. Any happiness he experiences living authentically can be taken from him by the majority who looks down on him. Roebuck grieves the life he will never live and so he’s depressed underneath his erudite, confident exterior. He’s just a sad man in a cage being watched over by someone who knows his secret and despises him for it.

Everyone has guessed Richie’s (Luke Wilson, The Royal Tenenbaums) secret. He isn’t good at hiding his feelings for Margot in spite of his attempts. Richie’s been in love with Margot ever since he figured out what love is. It’s most evident as Margot gets off the bus to meet Richie and we see from Richie’s perspective the way he sees her as a gliding angel coming toward him. He has his own life and loves, but it’s Margot that affects his decisions and moods the most. She’s the reason he quit tennis and the reason he lives at sea. It’s his anger at the list of lovers she’s had, a compound, concrete fact of her dismissal of his feelings for her, that pushes him to his ultimate decision.

The scene of Richie in the bathroom when he decides to take his own life is one of Wes Anderson’s most devastating. Much like when Francis looks through the mirror to us when he describes his suicide attempt, Richie’s pale blue eyes gaze at us in silent determination. Anderson uses jump cuts to speed up the process as Richie clips off his hair, trims his beard, shaves his face, and uses his razor blade to slice into the veins in his arms. He stares at us as we realize what he’s done, then he looks down at the blood pouring out of him to see what he’s done to himself. The scene is wordless because Richie’s decision, his depression, and his determination are all present in his stone face.

Richie survives, but he isn’t miraculously happy to be on the other side. He’s still in a deep depression. It isn’t until Margot comes to see him and asks to see his stitches that Richie’s need to be free of his pain becomes truly evident. The stitches aren’t a single line down his arm, they aren’t a couple lines across his wrists, Richie cut deep and jagged lines all over his arms. He wanted this to work. He wanted so badly to not be in pain any more. Margot will never love Richie the way Richie loves Margot. By attempting to send Margot a message, Richie finds that his depression will continue until he finds a way to accept that he and Margot will never be. The hardest part of his grief is acceptance and not fighting against it as he has.

Those in a depression don’t always look sad, they don’t always act sad, they don’t always say sad things, listen to sad music, write sad poetry, or watch sad movies. This doesn’t change the fact that they have found a void within themselves. This void can’t be tamed by the sheer force of will, no matter how much we wish it could.. It can’t be tossed aside through righteous anger, denied with a fantasy land, or disappeared by bargaining our way out with the right amount of anything. Depression is the black cloud amongst Wes Anderson’s candy colored worlds. It lives with his characters like the grief they all carry. It’s how those characters deal with it that defines them.

Wes Anderson’s characters start sad and they stay sad, but as they stay sad, they accept that as a part of their lives. Their sadness, linked to their grief, is a starting point toward the next phase of their lives and typically toward the resolution of the film they’re in. They may stay sad, but their sadness is a little less having gone through something that changes the way they see the world. Like all of us who experience depression, the feelings never truly go away, but they ease. It’s a nuance of life and one that Anderson explores frequently, but uniquely in every film he makes. It makes his characters relatable even if they’re unrelated to most of our reality.

Movie Review (FCEPR 2023): ‘Sisterhood’ is Nothing But Smoke and Mirrors 


Director: Dina Duma
Writers: Dina Duma and Martin Ivanov
Stars: Antonija Belazelkoska, Mia Giraud, Marija Jancevska

Synopsis: The friendship of two adolescent girls is threatened the moment they have to face the dire repercussions of their manipulative behaviour.


There are a couple of coming-of-age stories in this year’s lineup for the Festival de Cine Europeo de Puerto Rico (FCEPR). Whether it is from their main slate (Secaderos) or their presented classics (Rosetta), there are plenty of variations of these types of narratives at the festival, particularly ones that center around women. But there’s a specific one that doesn’t match the others in the selection: Dina Duma’s feature-length debut, Sisterhood. Due to its rash and oblique development, the aforementioned film reaches a state of narrative obliviousness where the viewer gets lost in the smoke and mirrors of the story, building tension and immediately taking it back – replacing it with a scene that reaches an unrealistic persona. You get the point of Duma’s picture, but the messaging gets across disjointed and hurried instead of patient and delicate.

Sisterhood centers around two teenagers, Jana (Mia Giraud) and Maya (Antonija Belazelkoska), as they experience an array of scenarios that lie between the stages of childhood and adulthood. The film sets itself in North Macedonia, during a period of their youth where they see sex as the dividing line between these two phases. But that isn’t the only division that arises; there’s also the division between shame and reputation, remorse and prestige. With the focus on social media and its effect on people’s perception, these ideas of how these teens see one another take a destructive turn as peer pressure and bullying take center stage. This is how Jana and Maya’s friendship or dynamic works in the latter half of Sisterhood, where the former harasses the latter – to a menacing degree – to keep a secret that will ruin their lives for good. 

While the story might be centered far away from your hometown, it is highly probable that it has been repeated in your local neighborhood (at least to some extent). They used to do everything together. They were great friends, but it never felt like the two of them were BFFs completely. Their personas are very different from one another. And Jana’s occasionally erratic and dominant behavior forces Maya to follow her steps, even though she doesn’t want to. However, some good comes out of this relationship; when Maya’s father leaves the family, Jana comforts her. It is in these early scenes where the film is most effective, in the contrast of these two friends’ personalities and how each one handles and perceives a situation. You sense the harshness of how teenagers manage loneliness, separation, rejection, and sexual awakenings. 

Dina Duma, with the help of cinematographer Naum Doksevski, focuses on the characters’ body language and facial expressions to let these emotions linger and increase their effect. The actresses, Giraud and Belazelkoska, also do great work capturing the essence of these dilemmas and their equally heartbreaking climaxes. Being their acting debuts, they managed to impress. Every countenance and expression shown in the first half of Sisterhood feels genuine and authentic. You genuinely care and feel sorry for them, both in their clash against abandonment (hence their constant need to fit in) and the error of their ways, specifically Maya, who often separates herself from the world and deals with her problems alone. We see the film through her eyes as she’s set aside due to her shyness and innocence. 

You also notice how the other teens just want to escape their realities by constantly partying and doing rebellious antics, like smoking a cigarette, even on school grounds, and drinking the night away. You sense an underpinning sadness even in their “happiest” of moments. As soon as the party is over and head home, you feel their unhappiness oozing as they open the door. This is their escape, and, in a way, the only form of being free from the draining atmosphere of their homes is through that riotous connection riddled with defiance. That’s why Maya holds Jana dear, the only person willing to take her on that journey. She doesn’t like that type of lifestyle; Maya just wants to perceive that sense of connection and feel that she belongs. 

In one of those parties, the eventual and heartbreaking fracture between her and Jana begins. One detestable act by Jana, which she forces upon Maya, causes the first crack. How Dina Duma handles that deed causes Sisterhood to slowly feel detached from what could happen in real life. This ruins the delicateness and genuine feeling it built up until that point. Sisterhood shows how quickly relationships between teenagers can break, using bodies of water as a motif for this fluctuation of bonds in the modern era. Dina Duma’s main idea works throughout the film’s entirety. However, it doesn’t feel natural when she starts to build tension between Maya and Jana, separating itself from the intertwining of fragility and harshness. 

The second half of the film is dedicated to the rupture between these two teens, and it all feels so out of place as if there was another picture in mind. As the tension keeps boiling up, the more ridiculous the narrative decisions get, to the point where it sometimes becomes laughable. And it is a shame since the first act hinted at an exploration of its title. In addition, most dilemmas meant to move the plot forward feel rushed and careless. You never get the chance to understand the reasoning behind Maya and Jana’s actions that caused this turmoil. Once the tension goes somewhere, the film ends abruptly with an altercation between Maya and Jana. 

It leaves a sour aftertaste because not only is it dissatisfying, but also weirdly inappropriate in terms of its themes. After all this time seeing them avoiding each other, only talking to each other via text, this scene that’s supposed to contain the dramatic crux of this story ends up having no subtext or significance since Duma leaves us with nothing. The two former friends are left adrift in a sea of guilt, with the screen slowly turning blue. It is a great image to end up with, yet you feel zero emotion due to the poor structure and mishandling of the story. 

 

Grade: C-

Movie Review (FCEPR 2023): ‘A Brighter Tomorrow’ Continues Nanni Moretti’s Streak of Wearisome Pictures


Director: Nanni Moretti
Writers: Francesca Marciano, Nanni Moretti, and Federica Pontremoli
Stars: Nanni Moretti, Margherita Buy, Silvio Orlando

Synopsis: A movie director struggles with his relationship with his family, and with his latest movie, about the impact on the Italian Communist Party of the USSR invasion of Hungary in 1956.


Nanni Moretti’s latest, A Brighter Tomorrow, has the Italian filmmaker dwelling on the metatextual to provide a character study of a director facing an existential crisis. But the film-within-a-film narrative, with Moretti playing an annoying version of himself, grows more dull and pretentious by the minute.

The FCEPR (Festival de Cine Europeo de Puerto Rico) always lends some of its main slate spots to auteurs who are held dearly in their country of origin. They present their latest picture in what I consider one of the best cinemas here on the island. Last year, it was Arnaud Desplechin with Brother and Sister; in the newest edition of the festival, that spot belongs to Nanni Moretti’s A Brighter Tomorrow (Il sol dell’avvenire). Coincidentally, the two pictures being presented and the cinematic trajectories of both directors can be compared with one another. Desplechin and Moretti are some of the most celebrated contemporary auteurs in their respective countries, the former in France and the latter in Italy. Both filmmakers have a distinct artistic sensibility that the viewer can easily perceive. But, as the years go by, we see them going to territories that depart from their usual narratives, for better or worse. 

For Desplechin, it has helped him reach new heights with interesting works like Ismael’s Ghosts and Deception, right until 2022, when he delivered a melodrama that felt like an unintentional parody of modern French cinema. In the case of the Italian filmmaker, he has failed to adapt his cinematic language to a modern lens. His latest films feel stuck between two periods, where the charming tone that Moretti wants to present translates to the audience as detestable due to its occasional satirical nature intertwined with the attempt at conjuring humanistic emotions. A Brighter Tomorrow is no exception to his latest string of poorly conceived pictures. After delivering one of the worst films of the 2021 Cannes Film Festival with Three Floors, Morretti arrives with a picture that’s even more mawkish and tonally misguided. It contains a film within a film narrative that adds some metatextual layers to the story, but both are equally dull and frustrating.

There are some comparisons to be made between A Brighter Tomorrow and Mia Madre, one of Moretti’s most-liked recently-released movies. Both stories center around directors making a film while suffering from an existential crisis. Additionally, Moretti plays a man named Giovanni in the two pictures. What changes here is that Moretti switches the status of his role from supporting to leading. In essence, they are somewhat the same picture, tied by the same narrative of a creative person struggling to find artistic common ground as the world seems to crumble right in front of the lead. It’s sometimes a good idea for filmmakers to revisit themes and topics, as they tend to shine a light on a different perspective or seek another angle on stories that have already been told. But the main difference between Mia Madre and A Brighter Tomorrow is that one has a solid dramatic core, while the other feels emotionally detached from reality to the point where the audience can’t stand it. 

As mentioned, Moretti’s latest follows Giovanni, a film director who is having a hard time not only with his latest film but also with his partner, Paola (Margherita Buy). In other words, he’s having an existential crisis. She has also been his producer for over thirty years, helping him bring more than a dozen projects to life. So, it hurts Giovanni that Paola is not happy with him after all this time. She doesn’t even want to work with Giovanni on whatever project he’s concocting; hence, her decision to move onto a picture meant for international distribution. The type of movie Paola is making baffles Giovanni ultimately. He believes that film has nothing to say about life and its complexities. It is funny that the lead character says so because that same statement can be said of A Brighter Tomorrow

The film Giovanni plans to make, if the funds come in, centers around a Hungarian circus group stranded in Rome during the 1956 Budapest rebellion. The group goes on strike in solidarity during an invasion, standing with the Hungarians as they go against their comrades’ actions. Giovanni wants to rewrite history in some way, creating a fantasy-like retelling of similar events that occurred during the time. The editor of the Communist Party’s paper, Ennio (Silvio Orlando), is perceiving similar emotions to Giovanni, as he also is having an existential bout with himself and his beliefs. Giovanni’s feelings are put into contrast with that of the characters he’s writing for his following picture. Moretti believes that the intertwining between Giovanni and Ennio will pave the way for fruitful thematic layers to his latest work. But the opposite happens; the more he tries to create empathy and realistic emotional sensibilities, the less everything in the film rings true. 

Not a single narrative plot point feels close to something that can be perceived as human. Giovanni embodies Moretti – quirks, grumpiness, pompousness and all. And it hurts the film because Giovanni is treated like the best of his kind, a filmmaker who doesn’t miss a single beat, even if there are plenty of moments focused on his antics. That isn’t the only problem arising from that character development. Moretti doesn’t even present why we must view Giovanni in that manner. The reason is apparent: Moretti himself is incapable of doing something of that same stature his character is apparently in. The only way Giovanni (and, in an equal sense, Moretti) expresses his feelings toward cinema is by criticizing the younger generation of creators, whether it is seen in fights with his producers or debacles against screenwriters. 

The only thing he seems to draw from reality is that same thing. When Julia Ducournau’s Titane won the Palme d’Or in 2021, Nani Moretti posted a picture on his Instagram where he quoted that the win for the French filmmaker caused him stress and anxiety. Although he was probably mad that his film didn’t win that year, you notice the pattern in characters between Giovanni and Moretti himself – the pretentiousness of his satirical efforts makes A Brighter Tomorrow feel toothless and insipid. There’s no irony in the narrative, only contradictions in the backstory of his social media antics and what he writes for the screen.  

Grade: D-

Movie Review: ‘Nyad’ is A Great Domestic Drama with Ho-Hum Sports Aspects


Directors: Jimmy Chin, Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyhi
Writer: Julia Cox
Stars: Annette Bening, Jodie Foster, Rhys Ifans

Synopsis: It tells the remarkable true story of athlete Diana Nyad who, at the age of 60 and with the help of her best friend and coach, commits to achieving her life-long dream: a 110-mile open ocean swim from Cuba to Florida.


Few biopics cut in footage of the real life subject. Usually the filmmakers wait until the end so the audience can rub their chins as they watch the credits and say, “wow, she really did talk like that,” or “they did a fabulous job with that make up.” Though, with Nyad, directors Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, splice in a lot of clips of news footage.

A viewer could guess that the reason Chin and Vasarhelyi felt comfortable adding in this footage is because their background is in documentary. Their previous works focused on extreme sports putting us with the athletes. It’s like they wanted to keep reminding us that Diana Nyad is a real person and she actually did the harrowing feats she’s known for. It does take away from the drama, though. Especially when you have two powerhouse actors giving amazing performances.

For the first scene of the film, after the credits and the introduction, it feels like we could be in for an enthralling domestic drama. Two women who are platonic partners who do everything together, know each other’s tics, faults, tells, and needs bantering and bickering. It’s funny and charming. You get lost in it until you’re reminded that there’s more to both of these women than just their squabbles over the Scrabble board. It makes you wish a less sports focused pair took on this story. It’s likely the flashbacks of Diana’s sexual abuse at the hands of her swim coach wouldn’t feel as jarring as well, but could land with the impact they should.

Continuously swimming long distances sounds so much like a silly, “because it’s there,” type of feat. It’s a bit pretentious and we can tell from what Diana is like, a self-absorbed intellectual, that that concept isn’t too far off, but Julia Cox’s script delves deeper into the story than that. Diana is unlikeable as a person, but she has so many hidden depths in her ambition and her drive. She has a spark that even though she prickles against people, she’s able to draw them to her with her awe-inspiring vision. That sings through in the conversations Bonnie and Diana have underneath the conversations they’re having on the surface.

It takes a phenomenal actress to wear a real person like a second skin. Annette Bening is one of those actresses. She plumbs the depths of her subject and builds her from the inside out with incredibly long looks, deep sneers, bulldozing verbal attacks, and a terrific physicality. Bening takes an unlikeable woman and makes her into a multifaceted human. She’s never better than when she shares the screen with Jodie Foster.

It’s been a while since Jodie Foster has shown up in a role like this. She’s been sorely missed. Even as your heart flutters at just knowing it’s Jodie Foster back in full charming force, you don’t see her after a while and can only see Bonnie on screen. Foster’s timing is impeccable and her physicality is perfect. She brings life to the film and, as Bonnie, helps us to see the softer sides of Diana.

There is plenty of action in the film and the swimming scenes can be harrowing. The swimming itself is kind of boring, though, and it’s obvious that they chose bits of the stories of each swim in an attempt to keep that drama alive. The most compelling parts were seeing the effects of prolonged exposure to saltwater, sea creatures, and the elements as terrifically rendered by prosthetic artist Leo Corey Castellano. Seeing Diana like that takes away a bit of the romanticizing of feats of human endurance aspect of the film and turns it into a bit of body horror. 

Nyad works best as a domestic drama. The relationship between Diana and Bonnie is the most intriguing aspect of the entire film. It’s an incredible story and Diana Nyad has had an incredible life, but the sports aspect of the film is just a kind of flavor for the dialogue between the two women and not that interesting to watch. The movie as a whole suffers for the attempts at showing pieces of the swims and brightens when it’s back to Diana and Bonnie.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Wingwomen’ is a Layered Crime Comedy


Director: Mélanie Laurent
Writers: Cédric Anger, Christophe Deslandes, and Mélanie Laurent
Stars: Mélanie Laurent, Adèle Exarchopoulos, Manon Bresch

Synopsis: Tired of life on the run, two expert thieves and best friends recruit feisty Sam to assist them with one last job unlike any they’ve done before


Mélanie Laurent’s directorial efforts haven’t been as strong as her acting efforts. Her last movie, The Mad Women’s Ball, had interesting ideas but was far too scattershot to make an impact despite a remarkable lead performance from Lou de Laâge. However, in her latest behind-the-camera project, Wingwomen, Laurent deftly flexes her genre cinema muscles and delivers her best-directed project, with impassioned chemistry between its three lead stars. 

Working with filmmakers like Quentin Tarantino, Louis Leterrier, Denis Villeneuve, and Alexandre Aja has certainly helped her gain an understanding of how genre cinema operates, with four distinct visions of a more participatory approach for the audience embedded in the filmmaking process. Although the opening action scene introducing us to Carole (played by Mélanie Laurent) and Alex (Adèle Exarchopoulos) is clunkily edited and choreographed, subsequent action scenes are sleek and have a great sense of rhythm. 

It also helps that Laurent stages many of its best action scenes with a known track to punctuate its rhythm and tone. One bravura sequence sees Alex fight a bare naked assassin in a bedroom while Tchaikovsky’s Waltz of the Flowers blares out in the speakers, and the perceptible window in the frame is filled with fireworks. The overall conceit of this scene is ridiculous, but Laurent isn’t afraid of putting her main characters in one gritty situation after the next. There’s an incredible balance operating between uncomfortable (bordering on cringe) comedy and tough-as-nails action that Laurent consistently plays with throughout the movie. 

A perfect example of this happens when the trio of bandits, Carole, Alex, and newcomer Sam (Manon Bresch, extraordinary), travel to Italy to kill assassins who were hired to dispose of Carole and Alex after the two told their godmother (Isabelle Adjani) of their intentions to leave the shadowy organization they are working with. The aforementioned assassination attempt sequence plays with the idea that their “hideout” is an invisible bunker in the middle of the forest, rendering the assassins invisible in a vast environment of glass, but the actual Italy assassination begins to play with slapstick comedy tropes until the violence reaches a real – and emotionally cathartic – point. It feels satisfying to watch these women kick major ass and not be afraid to take matters into their own hands, but there’s an added layer of character development in Laurent’s film that makes it stand apart from the usual fare of caper dramedies. 

That layer stems from making each protagonist emotionally complex, whether giving weight to Carole’s “final mission” or representing a textured relationship between Carole and Alex, and seeing Sam’s progression from when she gets introduced on a racetrack to her final scene with the trio. We already knew how terrific Laurent and Exarchopoulos are in many pictures in France and abroad, but Bresch is a total revelation here. She is poised to become a massive star in France (and perhaps internationally) after this picture, pulling off the classic tropes of the “newbie” in a Danny Ocean-esque gang with serious aplomb but also giving as much depth as possible to her character’s traumatic past, regarding the death of her girlfriend. 

I don’t believe I’m exaggerating when I say that Wingwomen is one of the best explorations (perhaps even mediations) on friendship in any motion picture released this year and one of the main reasons why the film works so well. The chemistry between Laurent, Exarchopoulos, and Bresch fires on all cylinders in the sequences that count the most, and we can’t help but ultimately feel invested in their plight as they reach the finish line in their most elaborate heist yet. It’s also one of the best gay movies of the year, with a not-so-subtle subtext representing a friendship between Carole and Alex that goes beyond a traditional “best friends” schtick, whether intentional on Laurent’s part or not. The ending posits this relationship in an immensely emotional light, giving far more weight to their bond than the previous scenes ever did. 

The ending also brings one of the biggest plotholes of the movie, which unfortunately gets resolved far too quickly and in a rather unsatisfying way than another – cooler – approach could’ve elevated. Adjani, a staple of French cinema, is also terribly underused here, with a backstory that gets consistently teased between Carole and her godmother but never fully revealed, despite a stern and confident turn from her. But even amidst those slight flaws, the core of Wingwomen, an exploration of identity and friendship, never lets up. Add some incredibly-crafted action sequences to the mix, and you’ve got a winner. Perhaps if Laurent’s next film operates in genre trappings and elevates its ending and supporting characters more, it’ll be an even better film than Wingwomen

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘The Marvels’ is Patronizing and Uninspired


Director: Nia DaCosta
Writers: Nia DaCosta, Megan McDonnell, and Elissa Karasik
Stars: Brie Larson, Teyonah Parris, Iman Vellani

Synopsis: Carol Danvers gets her powers entangled with those of Kamala Khan and Monica Rambeau, forcing them to work together to save the universe.


It’s finally official: The MCU has an identity crisis. The Marvels is by far one of the worst entries in the studio’s history. This film is a goofy, schizophrenic, cluttered mishmash of tone and pace, with a lead performance with zero charisma or depth. The final product is a somewhat elevated Saturday morning television affair with a script so paper-thin that the story hardly justifies the merciful Marvel Studios’ 100-minute runtime.

The Marvels is set after Captain Marvel and Ms. Marvel and follows Carol Danvers (Brie Larson), aka Captain Marvel, who has her powers crossed with two other superheroes in the Marvel universe—Ms. Marvel (Iman Vellani) and Monica Rambeau (They Cloned Tyrone’s Teyonah Parris). How? Captain Marvel jumps through a wormhole to meet a Kree revolutionary, Dar-Benn (Zawe Ashton). 

Carol deals with her past, which haunts her throughout the film. For one, Monica’s mother was Carol’s best friend, who died, and Monica has not seen her since leaving. The other is the birth of Dar-Benn’s villain origin story. Captain Marvel, a.k.a. “The Annihilator” to the Kree race, is attacking the Supreme Intelligence and causing a global environmental catastrophe. This forces her to inform the Skrull people they will be moving to their planet as a haven. Of course, when Dar-Benn sees Captain Marvel, the Kree leader suddenly takes matters into her own hands.

The Marvels was directed by Nia DaCosta, who wrote the script with WandaVision’s Megan McDonnell and Loki’s Elissa Karasik, which makes the final product all the more shocking. How can a filmmaking team with a filmography filled with projects of unparalleled mischievous, clever fun create a film that is on par with children’s Saturday morning television programming?

For one, the script is filled with exposition. Marvel then does what they do best, covering up the excessively unneeded explanations with action scenes as a beard. DaCosta uses cartoonish special effects to distract you from prolonged flashbacks and explain more backstory that is unnecessary.

Some nutty scenes don’t seem to fit and come across as needless filler. For example, a visit to a planet where people only sing (yet they abandon that premise as soon as the plot needs firmer ground). And don’t forget about Goose, the Flerkin feline. In 2019’s Captain Marvel, we get too much of a good thing with her special powers. These scenes are strung together as a patchwork to cover how the film has no real reason to exist in Marvel’s timeline.

Marvel and the filmmakers let the cast down here. However, let’s get something out of the way. Brie Larson appears to be sleepwalking through the material. She has transformed her character into one utterly devoid of personality, charm, or depth in any scene that asks for any amount of emotion, from an intense evacuation of a planet in peril to what is supposed to be a poignant revelation of her past. It’s honestly confounding. 

The one saving grace is the wonderful, exuberant performance from Ms. Marvel’s Iman Vellani. The character has charm to spare, barely keeping the film afloat during long stretches because of her incredible comic timing and fresh personality. If anything, The Marvels may set up her character for future movies and would be wise to do so because she is so adorably funny in the role. Overall, the picture needs to be more cohesive and the final product is patronizing. The ending is uneventful and fails to make an impact for the audience. Many will make excuses for the Nia DaCosta film, calling it just “stupid” fun, but don’t fall for it. The Marvels is a massive disappointment.

Grade: D+

Movie Review: ‘Fingernails’ is More Form Than Function


Director: Christos Nikou
Writers: Christos Nikou, Sam Steiner, Stavros Raptis
Stars: Jessie Buckley, Riz Ahmed, Jeremy Allen White

Synopsis: Anna and Ryan have found true love, and it’s proven by a controversial new technology. There’s just one problem, as Anna still isn’t sure. Then she takes a position at a love testing institute and meets Amir.


Jessie Buckley and Riz Ahmed deliver touching performances amidst the poor material given to them in Christos Nikou’s sophomore feature, Fingernails. While it might provoke thought-provoking conversations about love in the modern era and the nature of relationships, the high-concept, deadpan rom-com from the Lanthimos protegee contains little insight and intuition, leaving much to be desired. 

Everyone knows that love is a complex emotion, one that’s harder to describe or write about because it is more based on a resounding feeling in your heart and soul. If a person asks us to describe it in a few words, there’s a possibility that what we choose to say won’t do justice to how it feels deep inside. We all perceive this emotion differently. Our body gives us dissimilar, yet contrasting in essence, signals that let us know about this sentiment. It doesn’t happen often. But when it does, it is a fantastic feeling that can’t be replicated. Love can be the flame that lights your fire and a sword that pierces your heart. However, whether it lands on either one of the two strands (or eventually ends up in both), it is equally essential for us to perceive those feelings. 

In his sophomore feature, titled Fingernails, Christos Nikou explores this feeling, more so on the side of already constructed relationships, via a high concept that does both favors and disservice to its themes. The Lanthimos protégé creates a world where couples take on a weeks-long process, with various scenarios that range from diving off an airplane to seeking each other’s scent while blindfolded, to determine if they are actually in love with one another. As explained by the characters in the film, these scenarios help the couple build a stronger and more intimate bond. There are three results to this test: 0% (where neither one is in love with the other), 50% (one partner is in love, while the other isn’t), and the rare 100% (where both partners are “happily” in love). All the operators need to determine if they are a functioning couple is one of their fingernails. 

At the center of this concept, there’s Anna (Jessie Buckley) and Amir (Riz Ahmed). Anna is an instructor-in-training in the love institution where these tests take place. Meanwhile, Amir is the rising star concocting various compelling scenarios that place the couples in dilemmas to confront their feelings for one another. Even though he has only been there for three months, the institution’s head, Duncan (Luke Wilson), praises him plenty. “We’re not here to try and teach people to fall in love… we’re trying to bring them closer together,” Duncan mentions to Anna. As the days go by, Anna and Amir continue to work to help these people’s bonds, yet amidst it all, there’s a growing infatuation with one another. These emotional exercises put them (and the couples participating) in a challenging position in which they question the status of their connection. 

Both of them are in relationships that, from afar, seem as if everything is going well. But, at a more in-depth glance, Anna and Amir are having trouble. Of course, in that society, people in that line of work must have a match. So, it is interesting to see how they try to combat that lingering sadness with the happiness that making people connect brings them. Each “I love you too” that Anna says to her partner, Ryan (Jeremy Allen White), feels like a breath of exasperation that he doesn’t notice. It makes you feel for her – how she tries to make a fractured relationship work without the supposed help of a love-match test. Buckley always gives effective characteristics and piercing facial expressions to her characters. It tends to make the viewer palpably feel every emotion, no matter what persona she’s adopting for the role.

This scenario should serve as a strain to examine how it feels to be in a relationship in a modern world, where technology determines most aspects of devotion. Instead of swiping left or right, two people know they are a match by a machine that has their fingernails. People in that world are searching for an answer to life’s harsh questions about love and everything in between. But even if it isn’t the one they would want to hear, they prefer to endure these types of tests than to talk things over naturally. There’s plenty of frustration within the community upon seeing a person with a bandage on their pinky finger. The question quickly arises: “How did it go?” And the answer, rapidly responded, is almost always that they weren’t a match. 

You begin to examine how these people live in a world where a test determines whether or not there’s love in the air. There’s also the possibility that some couples lie that they have indeed taken the test and lie about their results. On paper, this concept seems fascinating and very thought-provoking. But, for a project about the nature of relationships, the film seems to express itself in a way that doesn’t seem like it knows much about love and its equally heart-rending and effervescent complexity. Nikou’s ideas regarding how the characters handle each situation are short-sighted. He uses the deadpan comedy as the catalyst for the slow separation and fracture of the relationships depicted on-screen. But, the problem is that there’s so much dead air (and space) in each scene, whose purpose is to expand on Fingernails’ themes.

The screenplay itself isn’t piercing enough to withstand the dullness arriving from the clinical structure of the film’s procedure. The lead pairing of Buckley and Ahmed is why you feel a minor spark coming out of Fingernails. Their endearing factors as screen performers hold their weight separate from the material they’re being given, particularly the former (who doesn’t miss a single beat in every project she attaches herself to). You get the immediate sensation that the Greek filmmaker is fascinated by this concept, and so is the audience, to a certain point. However, he dedicates too much time to the gags and details about the tests instead of developing proper characters and intricate situations that lead to us resonating and getting something out of the film. When you analyze the material, there’s plenty to chew on. However, what we see on screen has such little insight that it doesn’t deserve such intriguing conceptualization. 

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘Quiz Lady’ Misses Opportunities to Answer Real Questions


Director: Jessica Yu
Writers: Jen D’Angelo
Stars: Awkwafina, Sandra Oh, Will Ferrell

Synopsis: A game-show-obsessed woman and her estranged sister work together to help cover their mother’s gambling debts.


Quiz Lady has a premise that will satisfy that itch for trivia junkies everywhere. Especially the ones who don’t have the guts to try out such programs, like Jeopardy, for example, which is parodied in the new Hulu comedy. The problem is that it is only used as a backdrop by those buffs who take the minutiae of the genre seriously. While a far more exciting angle would have been an inside look at the struggle to retain knowledge and compete in such a show, you cannot argue the winning formula of Jessica Yu’s socially challenged comedy. One full of heart and a bond that can never be broken.

Written by a Hulu-hired hand, Jen D’Angelo (Solar Opposites), the story follows Anne Yum (Awkwafina), a socially awkward woman who always has her nose in a book. When she’s not gobbling up bits and pieces of knowledge at a record pace, she has a remote in her right hand and is petting Linguini, her gassy pug, in the other while watching Can’t Stop the Quiz, a game show she has been watching every day since the tender age of 8. As the story progresses, we learn Anne often watched the program because her sister Jenny (Sandra Oh) would put on the program and turn up the volume to distract Anne from her parent’s continuous arguments. 

Now grown up, Anne is an accountant who crunches numbers and has no friends. Her sister Jenny is a people person who only has professional prospects except for suing the pants off chain restaurants that bring her food that’s too hot to handle. Having grown apart over the years, they are brought back together when their mom runs off to Macao because she is indebted to Ken (Jon Park), a local Chinese gangster, for more than 80,000 dollars. Of course, you see where the story is headed. To get their mother out of debt, Jenny encourages Anne to try out for a game show hosted by her hero, Terry McTeer (Will Ferrell). Only after a video Jenny shot of Anne goes viral does she become an internet sensation.

This is Jessica Yu’s first feature film in nearly 15 years after a career in documentary films and directing dozens of television episodes for various genres from some of the most respected franchises on networks and streaming. Quiz Lady is a departure for the well-traveled filmmaker. Her films are often funny and heartfelt, but even though they fluctuate from the wacky absurd to a commentary on the bond of sisterhood, they can sometimes fall on the side of manipulative.

However, that’s not to say those scenes are not compelling because most are—for example, a hilarious set of toxic males primping and even massaging a half dozen adorable pooches. There is also a scene-stealing Tony Hale, who connects with Awkwafina’s Anne, who runs an immersive Benjamin Franklin hotel deep in historical Philadelphia. 

Others, like a flashback explaining Anne’s behavior as a child because of trauma, are out of place and forced to create closure for the sisters later. This is an example of Quiz Lady pushing aside an attempt at darker humor with heavy themes but trading them off for absurd comedy that sticks out like a sore thumb.

Yet, what makes Quiz Lady work is the bold choice of reversing the roles of the leads. Awkwafina will typically play the quirky character with irritable tendencies. Instead, Oh is allowed to revel in the role of Jenny. Her reactions and line delivery are priceless. In particular, when Oh’s Jenny has to think quickly on her feet, like using white guilt or cultural appropriation to talk herself out of predicaments. (The scene where Jenny attempts to even out Anne’s drugged-out state to an internist is particularly amusing.)

Of course, Awkwafina’s infectious comedic style cannot be contained in numerous spots, but playing a straight woman for most of the film shows her progression as a comedic performer. She’s absolutely winning here. Along with amiable Will Ferrell, who gives the film a shockingly calm presence that’s needed, is amusing. Additionally, the slimy Jason Schwartzman generates a few laughs to produce something positive out of a small role.

Overall, Quiz Lady is an infectious comedy with plenty of heart and plenty of wacky humor that’s charming enough to drag the picture across the finish line for a mild recommendation. However, the film missed a real opportunity to flesh out the childhood trauma angle with darker comedy that could have given the film greater depth. 

Grade: B-

Classic Movie Review: ‘Ivan’s Childhood’ Obliterates Innocence


Directors: Andrei Tarkovsky and Eduard Abaloy
Writers: Vladimir Bogomolov, Mikhail Papava, and Andrei Tarkovsky
Stars: Nikolay Burlyaev, Valentin Zubkov, Evgeniy Zharikov

Synopsis: During WWII, Soviet orphan Ivan Bondarev strikes up a friendship with three sympathetic Soviet officers while working as a scout behind the German lines.


This film was viewed as part of the event, “Tarkovsky: 6 Films, Master Works by a Master of Cinema,” at the Kentucky Theatre, accompanied by a Q&A by Raymond De Luca, Assistant Professor of Russian Studies and International Film Studies at the University of Kentucky

Andrei Tarkovsky, likely only known in cinephile circles, is a difficult director to access. In many ways, he is clearly of his time and place. Additionally, as has been stated by many, he is better understood if you view the scripts as works of poetry as opposed to straightforward fiction. In viewing Ivan’s Childhood it becomes clear that this has been true since his foray into film in 1962. As a note, prior to this event, this reviewer had experienced three of his films, Stalker, Solaris, and Mirror. Ivan’s Childhood is a bit more straightforward and easy to follow, but is certainly not without flourish.

Ivan’s Childhood, at its root, tells the story of Ivan (Nikolay Burlyaev), a child who is actively surviving through World War II and attempting to be of help to the army as a scout. The title is designed to make the audience feel sorrow and loss quickly, and it is wildly effective. We only see moments of the child’s pure childhood in flashback. We see brief moments of his mother and his sister, of whom he has been robbed through the tortures of war. Ivan’s Childhood is an obliteration of childhood, of innocence. As we sometimes sit back and discuss death and war in a detached way, Tarkovsky shows us the cost. More importantly, he does not allow us to avert our gaze. 

Although the film is not bloody or gory, when people die, it feels real and tactile. There is a genuine loss of life that is shown to not matter in the grand scheme of things. When we meet Ivan, especially for a child, he is tough as nails. He desperately wants to help and constantly tells others that his small size is an advantage. Ivan believes he will never be seen or caught, despite the rampant death around him. 

One could argue that Ivan’s Childhood has a weakness of character in people not named Ivan. However, this feels like a feature, as opposed to a bug. Tarkovsky puts us in the place of a child. Adults are large, implacable, stubborn, and see the world in a different way. Unless he begs and pleads, Ivan is constantly at the whim of the adults. The only adult who stands apart is Ivan’s mother (Irina Tarkovskya) who is almost literally a beacon of light. Tarkovsky frames her as both a great beauty and focus of hope and acceptance. Tarkovsky’s consistent use of dreamlike images and shifting focus allows us to see his mother as Ivan sees her. A woman who could have made his life kind and easy, if not for war. In particular, a scene in which Ivan sees a star in a well will stay with the audience, causing both wonderment and confusion. Showing Ivan both above and below is a masterstroke, which focuses us on the change and the loss of his childhood.

Despite Francois Truffaut’s statement that there is no such thing as an anti-war film, I believe that Ivan’s Childhood accomplishes what he would consider to be impossible. Yes, there is heroism, risk, and goodness in many of the characters in the film. But there is absolutely no lionization of any of the Russian men featured here. Ivan’s Childhood has a particular point of view. That point of view is summed up in the cost of war. Despite being the titular character, Ivan is not inherently special. He is a child. A child who has been robbed. A child whose being has been mutilated due to the horrors of war. There are countless children like him, in every way, in every country in the world.

Grade: A-

Movie Review (Middleburg 2023): ‘American Symphony’ Explores Traveling Through Pain Together


Director: Matthew Heineman
Stars: Jon Batiste, Suleika Jaouad

Synopsis: Explores a year in the life of musician Jon Batiste.


Jon Batiste is someone that a general audience would know as the bandleader of The Late Show With Stephen Colbert, but there is much more to him than that. A New Orleans native, Baptiste oozes charisma as a musician, one who plays with a joy that is infectious to others with every block he plays on. Famously playing with a melodica, an instrument part-trumpet and part-keyboard, he and his band, Stay Human, started with Colbert when he was only 29 years old. But there was always more to Batiste, which is what American Symphony discovers.

From director Matthew Heineman (The First Wave, Retrograde), this documentary goes in depth with Batiste’s life, particularly in his relationship with his wife, writer Suleika Jaouad. Jaouad’s story alone is worth its own documentary as she struggles with a rare form of leukemia that has consumed her for over a decade. Heineman is there to capture the battle when the cancer returns and she has to endure another bone marrow transplant and chemotherapy, which takes its toll on Batiste as well while he’s writing a new musical piece  for Carnegie Hall, with the film’s title.

The highs and lows are not hidden as Heineman places us with them in their most intimate moments, but it’s when Batiste is playing his music and working with his ensemble that the best comes out from him. Batiste is made for something bigger, as evidenced by his bold approach to music and incorporating everything into one symphony for the world to hear. At the same, his album, “We Are”, is a critically acclaimed, Grammy winning triumph, yet Batiste hears from his critics that it is not real jazz or that his album is not deserving to win over major artists. Batiste is still an underdog looking for the respect that he deserves.

This showcase of the other side of an amazing American artist brings a better appreciation to what Batiste has been, especially for someone like myself. I never knew his background, like forming a band that would play in the subway or walking across the street, or the fact he had this lengthy relationship with this unfortunate situation which makes it hard for both him and Jaouad. In fact, Jaouad has done a TED Talk about living with this form of leukemia, which as she wrote in her book, “Between Two Kingdoms,” she was given a 35% chance to live. Even with her current second battle, Jaouad continues to defy the odds. She and Batiste are deeply committed to each other, even allowing Heineman and his cameras to their very private wedding. 

American Symphony is a simple but moving story of the spirit of music and the defiance over death through love. By the end, any appreciation for Batiste will be increased and his story with Jaouad will be raised because of the depths they have gone to endure through the pain and allow us to be with them. It is about going through hell as well as enjoying the small things, like sledding down a hill. As this couple is still in their 30’s, these are young people who are in their prime with the best yet to come and their time is now. 

Grade: A-

Movie Review (Middleburg 2023): ‘American Fiction’ is a Perfect Balance


Director: Cord Jefferson
Writers: Cord Jefferson and Percival Everett
Stars: Jeffrey Wright, Skyler Wright, John Ales

Synopsis: A novelist who’s fed up with the establishment profiting from “Black” entertainment uses a pen name to write a book that propels him to the heart of hypocrisy and the madness he claims to disdain.


In Spike Lee’s Bamboozled, it satirized American TV and content that isn’t really Black enough and used racist stereotypes to improve their ratings. In what feels like a spiritual sequel, Cord Jefferson, in his directorial debut, makes the same point with literature. Based on the novel “Erasure” by Percival Everett, Jefferson makes one of the best directorial debuts in recent memory with this stinger on how White readers still judge Black writers for what their content is about, as opposed to writing skills. One of the best screenplays this year by Jefferson adds an intelligence that bears a lot of fruit in story and satire that feels straight from Mad TV.

Jeffrey Wright plays Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, a professor and author based in California who is struggling to get his work published because, according to his agent (John Ortiz), it isn’t “Black enough.” The example of what type of Black novel that is getting published comes in Monk attending Sintara Golden’s (Issa Rae) reading of her book titled “We’s Lives in Da Ghetto.” White women give a standing ovation in front of Monk, who then sees his books in a bookstore not in the Black Lives section because his subjects are not about the genre considered as such. Being shafted for books which use Ebonic lingo and use tropes that have always been connected to Black stories angers Monk so much that he decides to write his own book called “My Pafology” under a pseudonym, Stagg R. Leigh. To his surprise, his book gets picked up.

Meanwhile, Monk has returned home to Boston to attend to his ailing mother’s dementia while reuniting with his siblings Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross) and Clifford (Sterling K. Brown) who has unceremoniously come out of the closet. A sudden tragedy keeps Monk for the longterm in Boston and he is forced to tie up the affairs at his mother’s house. He then meets his mother’s neighbor, Coraline (Erika Alexander), which kindles a possible romance for the lonely author. With his brother’s outing causing consequences for himself too, Monk has to juggle many things, but nothing more important than his mother. That joke of a book he has written is now Monk’s way to pay for the expenses.

The range of Wright’s acting in comedy and drama is in full swing when dealing with the switching tones of the story and he does it with such ease. Ellison is someone who has pretended to be another person he is nowhere close to – a wanted convict who the FBI are now trying to locate. Having to degrade himself in this character, such as his suggestion for what the new title should be for his book, shows a tragic comic crisis of faith for Ellison. It is one of Wright’s best performances on screen, who has the right balance of confidence and melancholy dealing with these various problems. Brown is terrific as well, a tragic character that Monk has empathy for but finds Clifford’s behavior too erratic while dealing with his personal fallout.

What we have in the end is another conversation about racial profiling and stereotypes, but not as serious. Jefferson amazingly pulls out the right moments from Everett’s novel in laying down the difficult points that still affect how Black people are perceived. The great trick of it all is that Jefferson perfectly uses humor in the right places to get us through the story that does not stall nor does it lay it thick on viewers. American Fiction won the People’s Choice Award at Toronto and at Middleburg, which says how much people across the board will enjoy this film when it comes to theatrical release.  

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Fallen Leaves’ Walks Us Through The Darkness


Director: Aki Kaurismäki
Writer: Aki Kaurismäki
Stars: Alma Pöystim, Jussi Vatanen, Alina Tomnikov

Synopsis: In modern-day Helsinki, two lonely souls in search of love meet by chance in a karaoke bar. However, their path to happiness is beset by obstacles – from lost phone numbers to mistaken addresses, alcoholism, and a charming stray dog.


With a runtime barely going over 80 minutes, Aki Kaurismäki’s Fallen Leaves packs such an unbelievable amount of emotion into every sequence. It’s a deeply impressive display of economic filmmaking, but by no means does it seem to be a symptom of lack of care. On the contrary, Kaurismäki’s film goes for the most straight-forward approach possible, with maximum impact left in the aftermath. Knowing that his audience will likely relate to the larger themes of the film, Fallen Leaves uses none of its sparse runtime to really provide the audience with the ins and outs of his two lead characters. They’re practically the only characters in the film, and they feel so lived in in any given scene. Instead, through imagery and subtle performance alone, we come to painfully understand the plight of Ansa (Alma Pöysti) and Holappa (Jussi Vatanen). If you’re wondering just how that is, the answer is simple: many of us continue to live some version of it every day.

The film opens up drily capturing Ansa at work. With a melancholic expression, she scans various cheeses and dairy items on the shelf. We then follow her home, where she transfers from the couch, to the kitchen table, to the bathroom, and finally, to bed. Nothing is said vocally, but it’s in her subtle body language that all we need to know can be understood. As Ansa meanders through the cyclical nature of her daily life, it’s clear that this routine is one that has been set in stone for some time now. The only uprooting of that constancy is distinctly shown by what she hears on the radio. Practically whenever a radio is turned on in Fallen Leaves, we hear of nothing but breaking news from the war in Ukraine. With this bleak opening sequence, Kaurismäki’s film reminds us of how often we are surrounded by pain and sadness, both internally and externally. To be grateful for the lives we have been given is an honorable and necessary notion, but if they are full of such mundanity and tragedy, it becomes increasingly difficult with each passing day.

Fallen Leaves finds itself deeply interested in the idea of cyclical behavior, both in the form of routine-building, but also in reasoning. This all stems from a conversation Holappa has with his friend at a karaoke bar. He professes that he’s depressed because he drinks too much, but he also finds himself drinking to fight the depression he faces. Living on a job site with non-existent privacy, it’s clear that he too has no respite from the routine of life, except for the bit of solitude he has while his roommates go to bars. Luckily, it’s on a chance encounter that both Ansa and Holappa happen to notice one another in the few waking moments they have to exist beyond the scope of working to stay afloat. But like so many interactions we have in life, our characters find themselves more comfortable sipping their drinks than speaking to one another. It isn’t until Ansa finds herself unjustly fired from her job that the two meet again, on proper terms. Hoping to find comfort in the company of one another, they go to a local movie theater that, for cinephiles, looks like a true delight for a first date location. This is a rare scene of the film wherein the dead air is not filled with that of immense tragedy and war reports. Instead, it’s full of levity seemingly inspired from a Jim Jarmusch film. Even still, we barely see the two characters react. It’s in their deeply muted performances that provide the emotions which will shatter our hearts in the latter half of the film.

As the two grapple with the personal hardships they face, Kaurismäki begins utilizing the bare essentials of what is necessary. With two solitary images juxtaposed by a great match cut, the central theme propelling Fallen Leaves practically screams at the audience. This film has a really great layer of bone dry comedy on its surface, but in many ways, it almost feels like a put-on. That’s not written as a critique, but rather a likening to the notion that we oftentimes rely on humor to cover up a deeper sense of sadness within. So mentioning the comedic side of this film is solely to point out that while the film is humorous for most of the runtime, there are sequences throughout that will leave the audience gutted. With a simple shopping trip involving four or five items, Kaurismäki is able to paint such a vivid image of Ansa’s deepest beliefs that it’s truly remarkable. Loneliness, in its all-consuming nature, is deeply powerful. It often may feel impossible to rid ourselves of the notion. Yet every morning, as we wake up and find ourselves overwhelmed with a new barrage of tragedies, it may become more and more difficult to find reason to go on.

In a particularly stunning sequence during the final moments of the film, Kaurismäki brings his audience back to the karaoke bar. As the group onstage sings particularly bleak, although incredibly catchy, lyrics, the filmmaker cuts to individual listeners in the crowd. They all solemnly look to the stage, with drink in hand, and the film reveals perhaps its greatest trick. Each stranger we see is hopelessly alone, and at one point or another, many viewers may picture themselves within that same crowd. All the characters in the film are not Hollywood personas. It’s a film full of everyday people, each dealing with real problems and raw feelings that are deeply relatable. In a way, we are just as much characters of this film as anybody we see on screen. It’s only in the final moments of Fallen Leaves that Kaurismäki provides us with a semblance of hope. Even if it takes some time trekking through darkness, we will hopefully find a hand to take hold of and make it through to the other side. At the very least, even if the light seems miles, or decades, away, having somebody to walk alongside will make it a bit easier. 

Grade: A-

Criterion Releases: November 2023

For the penultimate month of 2023, Criterion is bringing in a new classic by Martin Scorsese and Claude Chabrol, but also has three contemporary films all released in 2022. All from different countries – United States, Belgium, France, Italy, and Iceland – they represent the different areas of life in times of unusual circumstances. They are challenging films that connect on different levels and continue to add to Criterion’s melting pot. Here are the new additions. 

Mean Streets (1973)

Martin Scorsese’s breakthrough film introduced himself, Harvey Keitel, and Robert DeNiro to the world with his gritty crime drama in Little Italy, New York City. A Catholic guilt-ridden gangster (Keitel) struggles to help his super-reactive friend (DeNiro) with his debts to the hierarchy who threatens retribution as he also has a girlfriend (Amy Robinson) who wants him to cut ties to this deadly life. Fifty years later, it still packs a powerful punch and is a much-worthy addition to Criterion. 

La Ceremonie (1995)

French New Wave director Claude Chabrol was still pumping out film after film, and here, stirs up a psychological crime drama loosely inspired by actual events. A new maid at a country mansion (Sandrine Bonnaire) meets a postal worker (Isabelle Huppert) who has a shocking past and begins an unwise friendship. As time winds on, the new maid begins to act out against her employer as the two women conspire for revenge against the bourgeois. Co-starring Jacqueline Bisset and Jean-Pierre Cassel, La Ceremonie is a mind game that thrives off the suspense of viewers.

The Eight Mountains (2022)

Felix van Groeningen (The Broken Circle Breakdown) and Charlotte Vandermeersch direct together a story about a relationship separated years apart and the discoveries they make when they reunite. Rebuilding a deserted cabin on a mountain, Pietro (Luca Marinelli) and Bruno (Alessandro Borghi) reminisce about their past and current lives, but their different attitudes threaten to separate them both again. Winner of the Jury Prize at Cannes, it is a testament to the heights of camaraderie in the toughest of circumstances at any given point. 

Godland (2022)

In nineteenth-century Iceland, a priest arrives on the harsh terrain to establish a church. He thinks he can succeed on his own, but the unforgiving forces test his faith and will to continue when he tries to start a congregation. Director Hlynur Pálmason follows the journey of one man, arrogant and proud, as he faces the uncompromising territory that remains a picturesque tale. In fact, this film, while technically a 2022 film, is eligible for this year’s Academy Awards and Iceland has selected Godland as their submission.  

Tori And Laika (2022)

From two-time Palme d’Or winners Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, they once again tell the story of immigrants in Belgium looking to start anew despite the difficulty of integrating. A teenage girl and a young boy from Cameroon become friends and make money in different ways, including selling drugs. But, when the older Laika has to hide after being rejected again for a working visa and is separated from Tori, the friendship becomes tested in regaining each other the right to live in peace.   

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review (Middleburg Film Festival): ‘The Holdovers’ Humanizes Our Flaws


Director: Alexander Payne
Writer: David Hemingson
Stars: Paul Giamatti, Da’Vine Joy Randolph, Dominic Sessa

Synopsis: A cranky history teacher at a remote prep school is forced to remain on campus over the holidays with a troubled student who has no place to go.


It’s December 1970 in Massachusetts and the boarding prep school Barton Academy is about to head into Christmas recess. Well, not all will go into recess as some students, for various reasons, cannot rejoin their families and are stuck at the school for the duration. The unlucky teacher who will watch over these unfortunate ones is Paul Hunham (Paul Giamatti), not liked for his rigidness towards students and who considers this hire a punishment for failing a student from a major family. He is a curmudgeon who may have been right in his teachings, but being uncompromising creates many enemies. One of the holdovers is Angus Tully (newcomer Dominic Sessa), who was excited for his Caribbean holiday, only for a last-second change to force him to stay out in the bitter cold.

An unusual partnership is created between Paul, a loner who has never married or has children, and Angus, who is rebellious, having been kicked out of other schools, and faces military school if he is expelled from Barton. Taking place at the time of the Vietnam War, he could become another casualty of the draft. Angus is a smart kid, as his recent grade on his ancient history exam in Paul’s class shows. Eventually, Angus opens up to what is a somewhat troubled childhood that has influenced him. Angus lost his father, and his mother remarried a wealthy man who sees Angus as an inconvenience, so Angus does not have the family connection he desires. 

The trio of Paul, Angus, and the school’s head cook, Mary (Da’Vine Joy Randolph), as a makeshift family creates a bond amongst the lonely at the corner of their lives.  Randolph’s performance, in her moments, is some heart-wrenching stuff. Mary is wise-cracking and is one not to take nonsense, but has a heart which still is void going through her first Christmas without her son. She and Paul have a mutual friend: bourbon. The humor is balanced with the more emotional pulls of these moments with the characters going through the melancholy of their lost ways.

Director Alexander Payne bounces back from his dismal Downsizing six years ago with his best film since Sideways. This is a warm film with a ton of heart with the actors, Payne’s direction, and David Hemingson’s script mixing perfectly an original eggnog of pathos from early 70s films. Even the opening credits, with the R-Rating and the studio graphics give homage to the era (even though Focus Features wasn’t founded until 2002); this is Payne’s first film that is a period piece, yet it feels fresh in contemporary times. His touch is light and never overdoes the workings of the characters as their wounds are opened, then healed again.


The Holdovers humanizes people who are out of touch with reality but showcasing why their flaws exist. The holidays do show what someone’s real feelings are if ripped away from their loved ones and counting the years wasted. Every time Angus and Paul are together going through the emotions, there is something that connects to everyone without the use of any gimmick. It binds them together that the differences they have are not irreconcilable, but that they can learn from each other in a time of need.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘The Killer’ is Fincher’s Return to Genre


Director: David Fincher
Writers: Andrew Kevin Walker, Alexis Nolent, and Luc Jacamon
Stars: Michael Fassbender, Tilda Swinton, Charles Parnell

Synopsis: After a fateful near-miss, an assassin battles his employers, and himself, on an international manhunt he insists isn’t personal.


The Killer represents a return to form for Michael Fassbender, whose cold gaze will make the hair stand on your forearms and, at times, send shivers down your spine. To go along with a darkly comic narration that is pitch-perfect for David Fincher’s meticulous crime thriller, the prolonged opening sequence sets the tone for the entire film. It is a remarkable character study displaying great patience, and the film excels when watching how the main character reacts when sequences unravel and are not under his control.

For instance, the opening is so stoic, cool, calm, and collected that Fincher and screenwriter Andrew Kenneth Walker immerse the viewer in the mindset of a man with unmatched paranoid vigilance. You begin to feel his obsessive sense of control, extreme orderliness, and methodical nature of his highly planned professionalism, and perhaps most importantly, psychological rationalization is used as a defense to excel in a world where very few last a long time.

That means our Killer has to stick to his process, quietly rocking out to The Smiths and performing yoga while always making sure not to leave any DNA—oh yes, that pesky DNA. That’s where Fincher and company grab the viewer and refuse to let go. The Killer is not about a successful hitman but about how a true professional handles himself when things don’t go as planned. 

You’ll notice Fincher’s famed use of movement, soaking within each frame. Fincher always uses the camera lens to mirror and connect his audience with the character – you can feel that overwhelmingly here. As the film progresses, you’ll notice the painstaking, even arduous, discipline in each step taken to accomplish the job. 

The Killer is an adaptation of the French comic book of the same name by Alexis Nolent and Luc Jacamon. The immersive character study starts with Fassbender’s unnamed assassin as he stalks a rich yuppie about to enjoy a quiet night of BDSM from, by the looks of it, a highly paid dominatrix. Our hitman needs to find out what the old man did or why someone has put a contract on his head. Frankly, he does not care. All he wants is to do his job professionally and get back to his girlfriend, Magdala (Sophie Charlotte).

We will avoid any more details to prevent spoilers, but we shouldn’t mistake The Killer for a documentary like The Iceman Confesses: Secrets of a Mafia Hitman. This is based on a comic, and you can highly question its authenticity. And, of course, the source materials were written pre-Ring doorbell and HD closed-caption television.

Fassbender’s character, for some reason, doesn’t have to worry about security footage from the most basic public places to the most secure living quarters in the country. I mean, all it takes is a DoorDash delivery driver and the world’s most unsecured back door you’ll ever see—think Fort Knox with a revolving door in the back without a security guard. Then there’s the matter of leaving a couple of characters alive, which doesn’t make sense in the grand scheme of the film.

However, that’s beside the point. What you have here is a cold and calculated study not of a profession but of the practice of discipline. Of course, Fincher scratches that itch for something different and ultra-cool, unlike most hitman genre films. Fassbender’s dry inner monologue, the affectionless way he adapts his plan to meet one of his victim’s needs or the icy smolder of surveilling your target.

The Killer is a return to the genre film for Fincher. If you compare it to the master’s almost biblical filmography of Zodiac, Seven, or Fight Club, you’ll undoubtedly walk away disappointed. But that’s because we are incorrectly holding Fincher to an incredibly high standard he himself has set. The thing is, he has applied his high standard to a source material that has its limitations. 


That may say more about Fincher as a filmmaker than anything. The Killer is a Fincher slow burn, whose heat dissipates throughout the picture.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Pain Hustlers’ is of Almost No Substance


Director: David Yates
Writers: Wells Tower and Evan Hughes
Stars: Emily Blunt, Chris Evans, Catherine O’Hara

Synopsis: Liza dreams of a better life for herself and her daughter. Hired to work for a bankrupt pharmaceutical company, Liza skyrockets with sales and into the high life, putting her in the middle of a federal criminal conspiracy.


Everything about Pain Hustlers is too cute, simple, and straightforward for such a complex story. Based on actual events, director David Yates brings a peacock-colored comic strip depth to a film that should punch you in the mouth, take no prisoners, and ask forgiveness later. Instead, the script is hackneyed, the characters are cookie-cutter, and the empathy built into the final act is saccharine. The result is a The Wolf of Wall Street wannabe without the conviction.

Emily Blunt plays Liza Drake, a single mom making ends meet as a stripper because her ex-husband is a deadbeat. To make matters worse, her daughter Phoebe (Chloe Coleman) suffers seizures, and Liza cannot afford the treatment. So, a couple of pole and lap dances later, she meets Pete Brenner (Chris Evans), who drunkenly offers her a job in his marketing department.

Brenner is a hustler and sees a little bit of himself in Liza. They are both at rock bottom, as Peter’s drug company is about to close its doors. They both have nothing to lose. However, he knows doctors don’t want a PhD telling them how medications work. They want some eye candy, attention, and a little flirtation to stroke their egos. So he falsified her resume. Since Dr. Neel (Andy Garcia) won’t be able to look past her legs, she’s hired immediately.

Written by Wells Towe and Evan Hughes, this is their first produced script, and it shows. Almost every character lacks a three-dimensional quality. Meanwhile, any depth only runs skin deep. Case in point: the writers use Spotlight’s Brian d’Arcy James, a fine character actor, to show the arc of greed. However, the arc is only cosmetic, as if the role of Dr. Lydell’s upgrade to nicer clothes and hair plugs is a substitute for watching the deterioration of someone’s soul.

The fact of the matter is that this is a very small supporting role. If anything, Blunt’s Drake should be that representation. However, as soon as Garcia’s Neel begins to unravel—something the movie doesn’t explain and seems to be a way to be solely quirky—she wants out. The film covers the fact that the script pretends Liza is oblivious to the issues the drug causes. It’s a simple phenomenon that drug peddlers don’t want to know what’s happening with the product they’re selling as long as it’s in demand.

Also, the Chris Klein (who is in need of a career overhaul) character is poorly drawn and underwritten. The role is inflated to support a big name. If anything, the filmmakers should have drawn more of a connection between the characters. And no, I am not saying it romantically. I admire the fact that there is no romance between them. However, they underplay the friendship angle. This would have benefited a third act when loyal friends must protect themselves. Instead, the moment rings false.

What Pain Hustlers does well, albeit incredibly briefly, so you’ll need to pay attention, is a breakdown of how pharmaceutical companies manipulate the system. And after Hulu’s Dopesick and a year where Netflix featured a limited series, Pain Killer (and a documentary on the same subject), the film gets it right.

You monitor doctors in small towns and pay them to make your drug the painkiller of choice. The physician writes the script based on the company and FDA recommendations. The company reports a protocol that economically enhances its bottom line but puts patients at risk. Finally, the company leaves everything to the physician and then claims ignorance.

Yet, the lack of details and depth is covered up by an attempt at homage to an excessive and hedonistic approach to sales. The team hires down-on-their-luck reps with flexible morals—there’s even a scene where I thought Klein and Blunt might begin to thump their chests in a tribal scene of gluttony. 

That makes Pain Hustlers a trope and unoriginal. It is not so much an homage but a knockoff of better films and series that have come before it. It’s all flash with false promises, little substance, and harmful for you.

Like the product the film is based on.

Grade: D+

Movie Review (Middleburg Film Festival): ‘Zone of Interest’ Shows the True Evil of Apathy


Director: Jonathan Glazer
Writers: Martin Amis and Jonathan Glazer
Stars: Sandra Huller, Christian Friedel, Freya Kreutzkam

Synopsis: The commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Höss, and his wife Hedwig, strive to build a dream life for their family in a house and garden next to the camp.


Writer/director Johnathan Glazer has only made four movies in a span of 23 years. Sexy Beast (2000), Birth (2004), and Under The Skin (2013) are all unique in his approach to a story, choosing a more isolating tone with his characters and being very omniscient. Review wise, Glazer’s work is polarizing because of his unusual style. Then, there is his recent film which premiered at Cannes this year. His first movie in a decade, it is a Holocaust drama that is unlike any other film about the Holocaust you will ever see. 

Using Martin Amis’ novel as the basis, Glazer’s adaptation differs in the same way Paul Thomas Anderson created There Will Be Blood from Upton Sinclair’s Oil! The first half of the novel is present on screen, but the second half is discarded for a more original storyline that carries one single element – in both cases, moral bankruptcy – to the very end. Whereas Amis wrote a fictional character, Glazer uses the real-life commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Hoss (Christian Friedel) and his family for his character study. The concentration camp itself is really not important because there is no need to see inside. 

The banality of evil, as famously coined by Hannah Arendt in her writing about Nazi organizer Adolf Eichmann, is up close to us when we are introduced to the Hoss family at the beginning. The family includes Rudolf Hoss, his wife Hedwig (Sandra Huller), their young children, and their helpers who all live outside of Auschwitz. The wall is there and the tops of the chimneys are seen, but that is it. There are sounds of gunfire and commands being yelled, but no peeks inside. All the action is of the family’s happiness in the sun with their dog and playing in the river and in the backyard pool. It is as if everything is normal and nothing is happening.  

Every frame, every angle through the lenses of Glazer and cinematographer Lukas Zal (Cold War) is meticulous. There are not many close-ups of the characters, preferring to have the entire room with the characters in the frame. When Rudolf learns he is to be transferred to another camp, Hedwig refuses to go along with him because their home is so idyllic to raise a family. She dares not uproot everyone to move to a less favorable location. Their discussion on a river bank is shot from behind, never in front of them because they never spoke truthfully of what is actually happening. Hedwig is as ruthless as her husband in just not mentioning what is really going. They don’t mention what is happening over there and are able to just block it out of their minds.  

The film’s title refers to an area of 25 square miles that surrounds Auschwitz because the Nazi’s, always the effective propagandists, never revealed the camp’s actual purpose. Glazer somehow perfects creating a horror movie without a single scene of violence being shown. You only see a family swimming, fishing, and picnicking. A group of Nazis talking about the Final Solution in one meeting, or Rudolf Hess seeing his doctor complaining of an odd abdominal pain. This is just normal to them. Mica Levi reunites with Glazer with a score that is as horrifying as the picture, sucking us in with darkness on the screen that seems to be there forever before the first scene and the credits begin to roll. 

At the core of The Zone of Interest is how cold-blooded these people were living next to a crime scene with no concern. The juxtaposition Glazer uses can be even more terrifying than the idea that the sounds and smell of death just do not bother anybody. It is a living example of the meme “This is fine” while fire burns all around. But, this is no joke when talking about a subject that, once again, is timely with current events today. There is no need to show shootings, slashings, and burnings when real-life apathy and the living artifacts about it are still here to witness. 

Grade: A+

Movie Review: ‘All of Us Strangers’ is Passionate and Electric


Director: Andrew Haigh
Writer: Andrew Haigh
Stars: Andrew Scott, Paul Mescal, Claire Foy

Synopsis: A screenwriter drawn back to his childhood home enters into a fledgling relationship with a mysterious neighbor as he then discovers his parents appear to be living just as they were on the day they died, 30 years before.


While it may come as a surprise that a film boasting a top-tier cast and an acclaimed director initially remained under the radar as the fall film festival season approached, such hidden gems often prove to be the true treasures of these events. All of Us Strangers boasts an ensemble of talented actors, including Andrew Scott of Fleabag fame, Claire Foy known for The Crown, and Paul Mescal, a recently Oscar-nominated actor. The film is skillfully directed and written by Andrew Haigh, recognized for his poignant portrayals of gay culture and relationships in works like Looking, Weekend, and the critically acclaimed 45 Years. Following its premiere at the Telluride Film Festival, All of Us Strangers quickly gained recognition, with its reputation continuing to grow after its showing at the New York Film Festival. The film has generated substantial buzz and even sparked discussions about potential Oscar recognition. This acclaim is well-deserved as the film delivers an intimate, emotionally charged experience, making it one of the most heart-wrenching films of the year. The ensemble cast delivers compelling performances throughout, and the film adeptly balances the dichotomy of themes it explores.

The film’s central focus is on Adam (Andrew Scott) as he embarks on a profound journey to explore his relationship with his parents, portrayed by Claire Foy and Jamie Bell. Simultaneously, he navigates the complexities of a budding connection with his neighbor, played by Paul Mescal. These two storylines run in parallel, often shifting between visits to his childhood home to see his parents and interactions with his neighbor in his apartment complex.

As he engages in conversations with his parents, Adam grapples with feelings of nostalgia and longing, often yearning for conversations he was unable to have or subjects he couldn’t broach during his youth. These discussions transport him back to the core of his adolescence, forcing him to confront the void left behind and how he has coped with it. The nuanced dynamics between parent and child are portrayed realistically. While Adam wishes for these reunions to be filled with joy and memories, he is confronted with challenging emotions as he shares his life with his mother and father. These encounters serve as a reminder that relationships aren’t always about ease, bliss, or happy memories.

As Adam departs from his parents and returns to his apartment, he frequently engages with his mysterious neighbor, Harry (Mescal), allowing himself to explore sensuality and genuine connection. It becomes evident that Adam’s upbringing has emotionally walled him off from most people, leaving him detached. As he addresses the root of these emotional barriers in his conversations with his parents, he begins to apply the growth he experiences to his adult life with Harry. This transformation is akin to a coming-of-age or self-actualization journey.

The themes explored in these two storylines may appear inherently juxtaposed in terms of their subject matter, which might initially leave viewers perplexed. However, director Andrew Haigh brilliantly interweaves these themes in a way that not only makes perfect sense but also complements each other seamlessly. The transitions between Adam’s childlike innocence and his burgeoning adult sexuality are skillfully handled, never causing any jarring moments. Instead, they appear intentionally crafted to create a subtextual narrative that gracefully envelops the entire story.

At the heart of the film, Andrew Scott delivers one of his most compelling performances. While more understated than his comedic role in Fleabag, he effortlessly embodies every emotional nuance his character demands. His moments of happiness are deliberately restrained, lending his character a fitting, shy demeanor that aligns seamlessly with Haigh’s vision. Conversely, his moments of despair are equally powerful, immersing the audience in his emotional turmoil.

Scott’s chemistry with Mescal is electrifying, delving into both passionate sensuality and the more tender, intimate moments they share. Claire Foy also delivers a stellar performance, portraying Scott’s perpetually youthful mother with unwavering believability. Her kind yet apprehensive nature beautifully complements Scott’s character, allowing her to shine brilliantly without overshadowing the ensemble but rather sharing the spotlight effortlessly.

As for potential drawbacks, it’s challenging for me to find any significant faults with this film. Viewer engagement with the story may depend on personal preferences regarding pacing, style, and tone. While some scenes could have been slightly trimmed, and others might have benefited from a bit more breathing room, the film worked almost flawlessly for me. Some writing choices may have held it back from achieving a perfect score in my view. However, it’s evident that Andrew Haigh is a skilled, stylized film director who adeptly realizes the stories he envisions and crafts them to fit his unique vision.

Grade: A-

Great Bela Lugosi Horrors That Aren’t Dracula

Erroneously ever typecast with his widow’s peak and vampire cape, Bela Lugosi actually made a surprising share of great horror. Here are five versatile Lugosi frights that aren’t vampires or his famed Dracula.

The Black Cat

Title aside, there isn’t much of the Edgar Allan Poe source material in this 1934 Universal horror hour starring Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff. Fortunately, a fun opening, novel bookends, great trains, wonderful shadows, Art Deco architecture, and classical cues accent the handsome, classy yet ferocious gentlemen in their smoking jackets. Each makes his entrance amid interwar consequences and sympathetic motives with nonetheless questionable, even sinister agendas. Vengeful justifications blur alongside pre-Code bedroom scenes, barely dressed ladies, and ambiguous implications between dead bodies, stolen wives, and daughters with the same name. Rather than capes and monster makeup, it’s excellent to see our horror heavyweights play psychological chess unencumbered as the occult stakes escalate. Though some may find Lugosi’s lengthy dialogue and Hungarian accent tough to understand, his torment over military trauma, tragic World War I betrayals, and lost love comes through in hefty, passionate debates before cults, secret rituals, and good old fashioned blows. Cat lovers may both enjoy the feline paranoia or be upset by the stereotypical ailurophobia fears, however this early horror classic is essential for fans of the cast.


Black Friday

Friday the 13th motifs, fedoras, spinning newspapers, and sweet roadsters accent the last rites, dead man walking, and murders for Doctor Boris Karloff in this 1940 mad science meets missing loot caper. Flashback frames, narration, swanky music, and inter title-esque notes match the brain swapping surgery, hidden panels, men in pursuit, and rooftop shootouts. The dames in peril and Jekyll and Hyde personality transformations caused by the preposterous medicine may be over the top, but guessing who’s next sets off our threatening gangster Lugosi. His continental suave and accent are unexplained and he has little screen time in this seventy minutes – leaving viewers to wonder what might have been had Lugosi played the mastermind doctor and Karloff gotten his murderous switch on as originally intended. Fortunately, Lugosi makes the most of his menace. This kind of science fiction meets criminal revenge could have been just another dated B production, however the surprising performances make for a pleasant thriller.

Murders in the Rue Morgue

Liberties are once again taken in this 1932 mystery inspired by Poe’s story of the same name thanks to Darwin debates, religious subtext, and saucy human/ape interactions toeing the censors. Editing cuts can make for some confusion; the pre-Code damsels screaming and animal hisses in the bedroom feel nasty. Fortunately, the storytelling is well paced, and fine shadow schemes accent the onscreen murders, blood experiments, and abductions. Although the ensemble is decent and real monkey footage compensates for the man in a monkey suit action, Lugosi’s twisted presence and delivery are missed when he’s off-screen. Unlike his alluring Count, Our Man Bela is a gloriously demented and wild-eyed showman in his torturous looking mad scientist laboratory. His obsession over angelic in white virginal victims is downright creepy! Despite some messy period production flaws and shades of King Kong in the finale, this is a great little hour for early horror fans.


The Raven

Universal borrows from Poe again in this contemporaneous 1935 hour crammed with a bloated ensemble that makes it tough to tell who is who and precious little quotes from Edgar. We don’t see much of the Pit and the Pendulum inspired torture gear and violence either, but madcap brain surgeon Lugosi’s god complex obsession with Poe layers the desperate medicine and demented love. Organ music, furs, lighting, and screams set off the interwar atmosphere while car accidents and quick surgical science waste no time. Deformed by twisted Doctor Lugosi in his attempt to reform his criminal ways, Boris Karloff is bearded, raspy, and disturbed in the strong arming while Lugosi quotes death. He’s hammy yet creepy behind his doctor’s mask and somehow still suave and luring the ballerinas. Some of the comedic moments and flawed set pieces are uneven, but the wild contraptions, poignant scenes, haunted house mayhem, and gothic comeuppance make for an uncanny charm.


White Zombie

The acting in this 1932 seventy minute film is over the top. The plot is somewhat confusing thanks to tough to hear dialogue, and the obvious fly by night cheap production will be off putting to some viewers today. Using zombies as manual labor may also be questionable, as is drugging a woman with a love potion to force her to marry you, and the portrayal of Haiti and minorities is of the time stereotypical. Despite the datedness and technical flaws; buried alive camera angles, traditional voodoo, and the soullessly controlled frights anchor the zombie groundwork. Smashing frocks and suspenseful music set off the kinky pre-Code suggestions, killer love triangles, and innuendo. Famed monster makeup man Jack Pierce (Frankenstein) has Bela Lugosi looking smashing yet diabolical as our voodoo witch doctor causing undead trouble for the virginal ingenues. Compared to our contemporary run versus walk brain eating zombies, this fun little piece is a zombie education time capsule.

Movie Review: ‘Milli Vanilli’ Reveals a Human Cost


Director: Luke Korem
Stars: Sabrina Solerno, Diane Warren, Downtown Julie Brown

Synopsis: The bizarre untold truth behind the greatest con in music history – Milli Vanilli.


White North American and European music executives love nothing more than using Black artists for financial gain and leaving them with the burden. From the 1950s, pop covers were stolen by white artists to bring in more money for studios, to country music theft of Hillbilly music. There’s no creative genius that wasn’t stolen and called their own. 

And then there’s the case of documentary titled Milli Vanilli, a German-French duo that took the music world by storm with “Girl You Know It’s True.” Like Albert Freedman and Dan Enright in Quiz Show, European music producers found their guys. They needed a brand, a story, and two struggling artists who oozed sex appeal to sell albums and make everyone rich. 

In the grand scheme of things, it hardly seemed to matter that Milli Vanilli couldn’t hold a note. German record producer Frank Farian saw stars, and, no doubt, blamed it on the money signs that undoubtedly caught his eyes falling down like rain. 

This is the crux of one of the greatest cons in music history, as laid bare in Luke Korem’s thought-provoking film. This is an examination of the motivations of the betrayal of public trust, a concept that carries a certain irony, considering how MTV began reshaping the music industry in the 1980s, prioritizing the visual spectacle over vocal prowess. We can blame it on Madonna, who had both, and everybody wanted their version of her.

Yes, it is a fraud, with the German-French duo being the victims of being made human capital with the relentless drive for profits. Internet companies today need constant content. Executives needed to strike while the iron was hot with the birth of music television. The duo had an astonishing rise, selling a staggering 50 million records. The Milli Vanilli album “All or Nothing” had five number-one singles, unheard of at the time. They even won a Grammy and had multiple platinum and gold records. 

Then, during a concert at Lake Compounce in Bristol, Connecticut, Rob Pilatus, and Fab Morvan were exposed during a technical malfunction, becoming a national punchline for late-night and radio drive-time hosts. The film then shows footage of televised American interviews where the duo had several communication breakdowns with the English language that was painfully evident. In one eye-opening scene, Milli Vanilli began an attempt to start a song with their voice and get the crowd involved. Only then did they start their visual dance number, and a noticeable improvement in vocal quality began. 

Almost everyone was complicit, including the pop idols. However, Milli Vanilli demonstrates the story through the poignant lens of Rob and Fab. You can empathize with their plight of being used to make everyone millions but judge them for falling victim to the alluring power of money and fame themselves. What Korem does so well is embrace the three-dimensional human story when it comes to the creation of fame, the strenuous journey, and fight to keep your place there. 

By all accounts, this is entertainment, and one could argue no one was hurt. By the time the jig was up, Arista Records had too much money invested to turn around. Personally, I have no idea how the executives wouldn’t know, with Fab Morvan claiming they did. Either way, no one stopped that gravy train, and that brings us full circle to how Rob and Fab were left to explain it all, feeling like dancing pawns, lip-syncing for their supper. 

You certainly cannot absolve Rob and Fab for their role – they are grown adults, after all, and know right from wrong. However, the film Milli Vanilli exposes a seminal moment in music history that had layers of complexity that went past the fraud. This was an exploitation of Blackartists and the deception of public trust that comes with marketing during the dawn of music television. 

At the same time, revealing the human cost of making a choice and not caring about the consequences until it’s too late.

Grade: B

The Vincent Price, Roger Corman, and Edgar Allan Poe Cycle

American International Pictures and director/producer Roger Corman took their low budget horror productions to the next atmospheric, macabre level in the 1960s with Vincent Price starring in seven gothic adaptations from the works of Edgar Allan Poe. 

House of Usher

A suitor inquires at the gloomy Usher estate about his ill betrothed in our first 1960 Poe adaptation, but her creepy brother Vincent Price explains the siblings suffer from several afflictions, sleepwalking tendencies, and family curses. Screenwriter Richard Matheson expands on The Fall of the House of Usher with demented sins of the father backstory and claustrophobic, melancholy characterizations. The hazy, bizarre dream sequence adds a surreal purgatory-like abstract to the cobwebs, thorns, and decrepit elegance while CinemaScope color accents the decaying manor, luxurious antiques, candelabras, and scarlet frocks. Certainly the cracked manor itself embodies the sibling strife and family vile, and Price’s Roderick is obsessed with their “peculiarities of temperament.” Though refined, even classy, he’s just a little too attached to his sister, and those over the top mannerisms match the acute senses and uncomfortable relationships. His opinion that marriage is impossible because their lineage must end could be understandable. Unfortunately, Roderick’s looming, fatalistic attitude goes from casual acceptance of illness and death to self fulfilling prophecy with catalepsy, burials, and madness. The white haired Price is perfectly disturbed, moody, and wonderfully bent, crawling out of his skin in fear before the morbid dust and fiery destruction.

The Pit and The Pendulum

It’s medieval Spain and Price’s distraught Nicholas Medina suspects his mysteriously late wife Barbara Steele (Shivers) was buried alive as Corman and Matheson flesh out Poe’s psychological torture in this 1961 eighty minutes. The torrid family history and more ghosts terrorize the current houseguests amid music that plays by itself, scared to death diagnoses, hoax accusations, and crypt exhumations. The gothic mood may be slow for today’s viewers, but the lush, isolated castle, candles, and tricked out dungeon are beautiful as well as scary. Despite neck rolls and puffy pantaloons, the quality ensemble keeps up the titular clockwork suspense as the eerie, torturous cycle feeds Nicholas’ escalating breakdown. Distorted, tinted flashbacks, flowing gowns, and billowing veils invoke the ghostly ladies while Steele cackles and screams. We feel Nicholas’ trauma and mental decay as Price’s camp steals the show. After one too many frights, he crosses into horrific madness. The expected Inquisition revival finale may become too comical for contemporary viewers, but the perilous pendulum editing is well done alongside torches, iron maidens, racks, adulterous twists, and macabre toppers.  

Tales of Terror 

Not to be confused with 1963’s Twice Told Tales and Price’s trio of Nathaniel Hawthorne stories, this 1962 Poe trilogy skips the usual anthology framing device in favor of heartbeats and those who don’t stay dead in “Morella.” There’s immediate, foggy atmosphere as drunken, grieving Price’s ill daughter returns to the cobwebbed family manor. He’s not happy to see her because her birth caused the death of his beloved wife – whose creepy corpse remains in the shrouded bedchamber. Mournful Price recounts the decades of resentment and his wife’s deathbed vow of revenge before his horror at the ghostly overlays and restored corpse. The freaky switcharoos make for great morbid implications complete with a fiery finish and satisfied smiles. Peter Lorre also does his best bumbling asides in “The Black Cat,” for he hates his wife’s feline and wants her money for more wine. Thirsty, he crashes the local wine tasting convention and challenges Price’s deliciously dandy, cat loving sommelier Luchresi. The unorthodox swallow versus the sophisticated sniff, swish, spit leads to an illicit romance, and the jealous Montresor borrows from “The Cask of Amontillado” before brickwork, nightmares, ghostly taunts, and meowing toppers. Wife Debra Paget suspects Dr. Basil Rathbone’s ulterior motives in the could have been full length in itself “The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar.” Lush colors and interiors accent the debates on the prevention of dying versus monstrous tampering with the beyond once Price’s Valdemar is hypnotized at the moment of death. Since our charlatan has control, there is no relief from the moaning limbo. The croaking voice and decomposing pasty begat an oozing zombie Price for one final gasp. Despite the humorous second tale that should have been first disrupting the morbid atmosphere and nothing super terrifying, this remains an entertaining anthology showcasing three different Vincents. 

The Raven 

Viewers expecting a faithful adaptation may be disappointed in this lighthearted 1963 medieval romp. The psychedelic montages and rapping at the chamber door recitations start spooky enough, and the cobwebs, skeletons, bubbling cauldrons, and dead man’s hair from the family crypt provide mood. This is however, a chance for all involved to laugh at themselves with who’s trying to steal who’s magical equipment, oversize robes, and spell ingredients such as dehydrated bat’s blood. The bewitched coachman, wild carriage rides, and perilous window ledges match the colorful costumes and crafty bird scenes. Sure, the special effects are corny puffs of smoke and neon lasers on top of borrowed castle footage. The score provides comical beats but the wit is carried in the personalities, banter, and ad libs. Not so deceased unscrupulous wife Hazel Court switches allegiance, and ornery, fluttering Peter Lorre has been turned into a talking raven yelling at his dim witted son Jack Nicholson (The Shining). He accuses Grand Master Scarabus Boris Karloff (also of the great 1935 The Raven) of being a dirty old man for bending his wand, and Scarabus feigns innocence amid self-aware trickery gone awry.. Milk drinking, fatherly wizard Price just wants to practice his magic quietly at home, and it’s amazing how he plays Dr. Craven so straight faced when saying things like “diabolic mind control.” Everyone knows what they are here to do, and the ensemble does it again in the unrelated, bemusing follow up The Comedy of Terrors. Although there’s some redundant action, the eerie meets preposterous moments are well paced with time to chuckle over the duplicitous winks and magical blackmail. The fun, fiery finish all comes down to a wizard’s duel with floating chairs, rubber bats, and confetti.  

The Haunted Palace

This 1963 tale adapted by writer Charles Beaumont borrows more from H.P. Lovecraft’s The Case of Charles Dexter Ward than it does Poe’s titular stanza with townsfolk burning Vincent Price’s warlock Curwen for using the Necronomicon to raise Cthulhu and cursing Arkham’s descendants. 100 years later, Charles Dexter Ward (also Price) inherits the family ruin and slowly becomes possessed by Curwen’s spirit amid bizarre deaths and deformed villagers. The colonial mayhem, fog, and lightning establish the sinister atmosphere while eerie music sets off the subsequent ornate Victorian style. Smoke and mirrors effects make for a few very chilling moments, and Lon Chaney, Jr. (The Wolf Man) is perfection as the creepy and most definitely not so innocent caretaker. Lovely wife Debra Paget has her suspicions on Curwen overtaking her husband, but the picture runs out of time before completely exploring their tender relationship and its explosive break. Our Man Vincent differentiates well between the two men, subtly struggling with his inner resistance before great outbursts and physical altercations. The slick, ruthless Curwen replaces his gentlemanly descendant as the man handlings, resurrections, and naughty implications escalate. Certainly, the Necronomicon back story and Cthulhu allusions could have been better explained with more tentacles and dungeon scenery, and the recycled fire footage makes for an abrupt end. Fortunately, this is an entertaining and scary little picture nonetheless. 

The Masque of the Red Death

Our Prince Prospero leaves the villagers to die of the Red Death while the rest of the nobility gather at his castle to wait out the plague with evenings of pleasure, masquerades, and debauchery in this lavish, vibrant 1964 treat. Beaumont skillfully weaves Poe’s tale of disease and comeuppance with his vengeful “Hop-Frog” short, creating a devilishly charming yet dreadfully spooky examination on deceit, pride, and gluttony. Mortal fears and brief religious arguments layer the knives, ritual dreams, and drunken decadence before Death Incarnate enters wearing the red Prospero has forbidden. Vixen Hazel Court is sinfully good in her bewitching, satanic ways versus angelic in white peasant Jane Asher (Alfie), who’s righteous, innocent naiveté is at risk from Prospero’s suave viciousness. Outlandish hats, plumes, and colorful costumes accentuate Price’s pomp and revelry even as his fatal commands are subdued and chilling. His frightening face to face mayhem provides social commentary on corruption, elitism, and evil as superb horror should.

The Tomb of Ligeia

Price’s Verden Fell vows that his late wife Elizabeth Shepherd (Damien: Omen II) will defy death, becoming a sun-sensitive reclusive until the beautiful Rowena (also Shepherd) stumbles upon his ruined abbey. They marry despite Ligeia’s Egyptian antiques, black cat, and lingering spirit permeating their lives as Robert Towne’s (Shampoo) 1964 adaptation of Poe’s short story weaves Bronte mood, morbid interiors, necrophilia allusions, and feline ambiguity. Director Corman also departs from the surreal dark look of the earlier Poe films with bright English locales, gothic priories, Stonehenge strolls, and tender romance contrasting the will power versus grief and life over death itself suggestion. A  very disturbing and well done dream sequence, scratches, swats, and possessions provide scares while Shepherd’s chemistry and emotion remain believable as the creepiness increases. She’s freaky in the duel showdown as Ligeia, too. Though simultaneously showing his age yet looking younger, Price’s Verden is surprisingly sympathetic, even sad and pathetic with his dependence on his little dark glasses. What hope has he when Ligeia has her claws in him, even from beyond the grave? This Poe finale is not about today’s horror in your face but remains a stylized treatise on pesky cats, fatal innuendo, and frail mortality.

Want even more macabre? Also part of Corman’s cycle, 1962’s The Premature Burial features Ray Milland instead of Vincent Price. Price himself also later appeared in the unrelated one man anthology An Evening with Edgar Allan Poe in 1970.

Movie Review: ‘The Persian Version’ Is An Energetic Exploration of Family


Director: Maryam Keshavarz
Writer: Maryam Keshavarz
Stars: Layla Mohammadi, Niousha Noor, Arty Froushan

Synopsis: When a large Iranian-American family gathers, a family secret is uncovered that catapults the estranged mother and daughter into an exploration of the past, and to discover they are more alike than they know.


This piece was published during the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike. Without the labor of the actors currently on strike, the movie being covered here wouldn’t exist.

As soon as The Persian Version opens, its energy never dials down. The movie consistently jumps from one scene to the next, with a frenetic pace that is oftentimes engaging but can, in certain moments, feel extremely overwhelming. Writer/director Maryam Keshavarz helms the movie with confidence, immediately setting the tone for the wild ride audiences will embark on, going back and forth from the past and present, whilst also having Leila (Layla Mohammadi) and Shireen (Niousha Noor) consistently break the fourth wall.

At its core, The Persian Version is about Leila’s relationship with her mother, who has always appeared stern and difficult towards her daughter, but there is a reason for these actions Leila will eventually discover why that is, which will become The Persian Version’s emotional core. The film was marketed, through its trailers, as a coming-of-age comedy in which Leila surprisingly gets pregnant and deals with this newfound event in her tumultuous life while her father (Bijan Daneshmand) is ill in the hospital. But that’s not what the movie is about. It mainly focuses on Leila’s connections with Shireen and how their past lives will eventually coalesce together so they can reconcile and hope for a brighter and happier future.

It does take a while to get into the movie’s groove, but once it finds its footing, The Persian Version is a highly enjoyable dramedy bolstered by two incredible performances from Mohammadi and Noor. The unfortunate (and fundamental) problem with The Persian Version lies in its editing, where the consistent back and forth between the past and present feels jarring and discombobulating. There are times in which Keshavarz directly tells us which time period this event is set, but there are also many sequences in which it’s hard to discern whether or not it’s set in the past or present.

It makes the movie’s overall presentation feel daunting, with the audience frequently picking up the puzzle pieces and figuring out exactly who it’s following and in which period it’s set. 

Sometimes, it’s easy, as we see younger versions of Leila and Shireen. But there are many times in which it overcomplicates itself instead of dialing down on its flashier aesthetics. Boldly affirming yourself as an artist through pure maximalism is always welcomed, though even the best wall-to-wall pieces know when to stop a bit for the emotions to weave in naturally and when to go all in. Keshavarz, unfortunately, has a hard time figuring out these pieces, and, as a result, the film never really finds its flow until the second act, where it starts to calm down just a smidge.

But then the story is flipped, and Shireen starts breaking the fourth wall. It becomes even more confusing as the movie now attempts to create two narrative threads with the same exhausting rhythm. It never really knows when to stop, which is a shame. However, when some more emotional sequences arrive, Keshavarz understands their power and restrains on being too showy, fully knowing that these scenes must be handled with care and that the acting performances should showcase massive empathy and heart.

Thankfully, the performances are phenomenal. Mohammadi gives one of the best breakout roles of any movie this year, deftly balancing relatable slices of comedy with a more human and vulnerable side. Some of the film’s biggest laughs involve Leila’s relationship with Maximillian (Tom Byrne), the man who surprisingly got her pregnant, even if she is queer. The two aren’t a perfect match, but they seem to make it work, even if her family isn’t impressed with him.

But The Persian Version is Noor’s movie through and through, imbuing Shireen with a remarkable array of raw emotion and unadulterated love. She never explicitly shows that she loves Leila (we eventually get to find out why, and it’s devastating), but we see, deep down, how much she cares about her just through her eyes and how she looks at Leila. It’s a mostly quiet and reserved turn that fills the movie with as much emotional resonance as possible and makes its final scene all the more poignant. Noor should be at the top of everyone’s list for Best Supporting Actress this year, in her most powerful work as an actor so far.

She and Mohammadi are the main reasons The Persian Version is worth watching. The supporting actors are equally as excellent but do not get enough screen time to make an impact as much as they do. And even if some of its visual style can be distracting and remove some of its character development, The Persian Version remains an impassioned piece of work that sets Kezhavarz, Mohammadi, and Noor as ones to watch if you weren’t paying attention to their work before.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Butcher’s Crossing’ Falls Short of High Ideas


Director: Gabe Polsky
Writers: Gabe Polsky, Liam Satre-Meloy, and John Williams
Stars: Nicolas Cage, Rachel Keller, Xander Berkeley

Synopsis: An Ivy League drop-out travels to the Colorado wilderness, where he joins a team of buffalo hunters on a journey that puts his life and sanity at risk. Based on the highly acclaimed novel by John Williams.


There’s much to admire when it comes to Butcher’s Crossing. The breathtaking landscape was shot exclusively on the Blackfeet Reservation in Colorado. There’s a majestic shot of a buffalo hunt scene that doesn’t quite rival anything with Dances with Wolves, but it is good. Even a sense of isolation and danger comes with the American West. However, what Gabe Polsky’s film falls short of is depicting a group descending into madness, which is what the script aims for.

Based on the novel of the same name by John Edward Williams, one of the fundamental issues of Butcher’s Crossing is how it loses its protagonist along the way. That character is Will Andrews (played by Fred Hechinger), who leaves in the middle of his Harvard education for an adventure in a Buffalo hide trading post called Butcher’s Crossing. While there, he locates an old family friend (played by Academy Award nominee Paul Raci), hoping to allow him to accompany his men on a buffalo hunt.

Raci’s character is obnoxious (frankly, his performance seems incredibly over the top) and scoffs at the idea. Young Will then runs into a brazen buffalo hunter who goes by the name of Miller (Nicolas Cage). We cannot tell if Miller sees the youngster as a mark or wants to take him on what he promises: a hunt. You can only read about it in books. The idea is too irresistible for Will to pass up, using all his savings to finance the quest. (Will has $500, or about $14,811.79 in today’s money.) Frankly, I cannot believe they didn’t shoot and toss him in a creek.

From there, we see what makes Polsky’s adaptation tick. Along with his trusty hunting companion, Charley (an unrecognizable Xander Berkeley), and Fred (Jeremy Bobb), often the voice of dissent, they go past the thinning bison herds of the Kansas Plains to a mountain valley in Colorado, where Miller claims to have the biggest herd he’s ever seen and hides as thick as their heads. In one of the film’s best scenes, during the journey to get there, they encounter a mother with her children who have become lost from their party (unsure if their last name was “Donner”) and need water. Miller denies them, holding a gun on them until they leave.

The rest of the film can be interesting, but the adaptation takes a turn, beefing up Cage’s role and tracking his obsession with murdering the entire herd. This consequence causes Will to be reduced to what amounts to sleepwalking throughout the rest of the picture. Here is where the film’s tension should be wrapped up considerably. Instead, Hechinger’s Will attempts to get lost in hysteria but is sullener than anything.

Cage’s Miller takes center stage, including keeping his California accent in the middle of a perilous frontier film. Miller is obsessive but greedy and never succumbs to a psychosis of madness. In fact, the character is never as driven as you’d like, even when attempting to locate the bison herd. Miller is no Colonel Walter Kurtz, and the only psychological break comes from supporting characters in a scene that lacks any raw power. Cage’s character is a narcissist who should be using manipulation and a type of abuse to get the group to do his bidding. Instead, he has a forgiving side that rings false.

In the original work, Will’s reverence for nature and the teachings of Ralph Waldo Emerson led him to find peace where humans and nature meet. Just like Saul Rubinek’s W.W. Beauchamp found more than he was bargaining for with the nature of violence in Unforgiven, Will should begin to find out how society is protecting him back home from the cruel reality nature has to offer. Instead, we are given a heavy-handed history lesson about the pillaging of American buffalo.

Butcher’s Crossing never fully completes the psychological factor it desperately needs to connect and meet the film’s weighty themes. The attempt can be respected since the final product as a whole is not as interesting as a handful of parts. However, the film sacrifices storytelling for heavy-handed preachiness that wasn’t needed.

Grade: C-

Movie Review (NYFF 2023): ‘Ferrari’ Plays Like a Well-Oiled Machine


Director: Michael Mann
Writers: Troy Kennedy Martin and Brock Yates
Stars: Adam Driver, Penélope Cruz, Shailene Woodley

Synopsis: Set in the summer of 1957, with Enzo Ferrari’s auto empire in crisis, the ex-racer turned entrepreneur pushes himself and his drivers to the edge as they launch into the Mille Miglia, a treacherous 1,000-mile race across Italy.


There reaches a point in Michael Mann’s Ferrari in which Enzo (Adam Driver) is bringing his son, born out of wedlock, Piero, into the science of making race cars. When Piero emphasizes a desire to get behind the wheel of such a death trap, Enzo shifts gears. He points out all that he is looking at in the blueprints of a particular engine, and utters a phrase that, when examined through the lens of Mann’s oeuvre, becomes a statement both utterly fascinating and a deep falsity. “The better something works, the better it looks to people.” 

Now, as viewers and admirers of Mann’s cinematic work, this is fundamentally true. With Thief, Frank (James Caan) methodically cracking open a safe over the course of a night takes on an operatic impact. Seeing Vincent (Tom Cruise) in Collateral track around Los Angeles as a hit man plays out in our minds like a horror film. Miami Vice, one of the coolest movies ever made, works because we wholly believe Crockett (Colin Farrell) and Tubbs (Jamie Foxx) will get the job done under any circumstances. In other words, Mann’s characters are consummate professionals. They’re often experts, speaking in jargon specific to their respective fields that the audience may be one step behind on. Even still, we inherently find ourselves drawn to their dedication, regardless of which side of the law they fall on; it’s what makes a movie like Mann’s Heat one of the all-time greats. But we must also remember, these characters exist beyond the simple scope of a movie. What makes Mann’s work special is how they also operate as fundamental ruminations on life. With Ferrari, which he has been trying to make for more than two decades, that statement feels more like a thesis statement for why his characters are so inherently compelling. But on the flip side, Mann’s characters are also proof that this thesis statement is fundamentally false.

The film, while only looking into a specific 3-month period of Enzo Ferrari’s life, does a pretty great job at succinctly portraying the complex qualities of the man at the center of it all. Set during the late 1950’s, we see a struggling Enzo dealing with his company teetering on the edge of insolvency. The cars look unbelievable, and they run like dazzling machines. Each car is built by hand, and while they sell quantities well under the industry standard, it’s due to the strict quality requirements Enzo uses as a guideline. And by the way the man carries himself, it’s clear he values these qualities in aspects beyond that of just his business. He runs his days like a well-oiled machine, making sure to stop at the same barbershop every morning for a shape-up, before visiting the tomb of his 24-year-old son, Alfredo Ferrari. Even so, one key element of Enzo’s life is made clear fairly early on: he is a man of isolation. While his cars may dazzle onlookers on the street, he gives off a cold aura at nearly every moment. He is a man who has broken himself off from the world to remove any semblance of a distraction. One would be remiss to not mention Neil MacCauley’s similar sounding ideology in Heat, but Enzo feels far more like a haunted figure than that of Neil. It seems like even if Enzo does believe his own statement of looking better to others if he works better or harder, he’d push them away all the same. 

To be a central figure in a Mann film is to thread the needle between just existing and truly living. At the point at which we meet Enzo, he seems to be leaning a bit far into the former of merely going through the rigorously set motions he has created for himself. With that, there are moments of clarity and raw emotion to be mined from such a fascinating character. And lucky for us, Mann has found one of the greatest actors currently working to channel this complex range.

In the titular role, Driver is extraordinary. It’s a performance that perfectly understands what makes any Mann character so compelling. Much of Ferrari is hyper-focused on the interiority behind the sunglasses and signature suits, and there are countless sequences where Driver’s face swallows up nearly the entire frame. To even attempt to read into his mindset at any given moment feels as if it’s for naught, but we, as viewers, clamor to do so anyway. And this extends beyond the titular performance of the film. Playing Ferrari’s estranged wife Laura (Penélope Cruz) would seem to be no easy feat. The relationship between the two is incredibly complex, but Mann’s film is able to distill it all into a short window. While Mann’s films have justifiably been criticized for a lack of strong female characterization, it presents an interesting challenge for the actresses he has worked with. Cruz, in a painfully, yet highly effective, reserved role, serves as what amounts to a specter floating through the film. She is haunted by all those around her. In reality, she was somewhat unjustly maligned in the media at the time for simply being a woman responsible for the finances of a car company. Ferrari, in an admittedly limited way, at least attempts to right some of these wrongs. As we witness Laura slowly uncovering her husband’s hidden life, it allows us to understand the man a bit more. But there’s still so much buried away, making his relationship with each character ripe for examination. With each one-on-one conversation comes the hope of a bit more understanding. Yet for all the strong character work that is present in this film, in some ways, the titular vehicle is what matters most in this film. The cars which Enzo has devoted seemingly everything to take center stage for him, and it feels as if Mann understands this commitment wholeheartedly.

While Mann’s films are always deeply interested in their characters, the worlds they inhabit also receive an equal share of passion. That brings us to the cars themselves, machines which Mann has referred to as “savage.” And in many ways, that’s about as apt as one could put it. These vehicles, shockingly tiny yet packed to the brim with power, roar across the screen. As Enzo and his team test the limits of these machines prior to the climactic Mille Miglia, Mann frames the onlookers as inconsequential while the driver zooms by every 90 seconds or so. In a quest to gain absolute control over speed and time itself, we have given ourselves over to those very concepts. A simple gear shift made too late or a slight twist of the wheel can bring forth utter mayhem and destruction. It’s in this visceral reality that the actual horror of Ferrari is felt. Even as beautiful and cool as the imagery within Ferrari is, our minds know it’s terrifying. Every time we find the camera mounted on the hood or capturing the driver’s seat, it never dulls the fear; in fact, it only strengthens it. There are multiple sequences that are designed to elicit gasps, and not just from depicting events in the personal history of Enzo. Going beyond the scope of the film, these moments serve as a reminder that we are rarely in control of what might happen at any given moment.

Enzo, as a car-maker, is clearly respected. People in the street flock to him in hopes of an autograph. He’s referred to as “Il Commendatore” out of respect. When detailing the necessary drive which he commands all his racers to have, everybody listens attentively. Even if what Enzo’s statement amounts to is: “be willing to die for me.” It’s a standout scene, captured in the type of manner Mann is so beloved for. Pure intensity pours off of the screen… but is this actual love? Is Driver’s Enzo even capable of receiving such a powerful emotion anymore? One of the few times he allows himself to be open in the film, it is in the tomb of Alfredo. As his words echo off the marble walls in a haunting manner, his self-imposed isolation pains the viewer. But in mere moments, the sunglasses go back on and it’s back to business above all else. It’s as if his true self, a father who misses his son, is not allowed to leave the tomb. It’s as if Enzo cannot be himself for even a second, or everything would crumble into dust. Enzo certainly believes his statement to Piero from the beginning of Ferrari, at least in relation to his own life. If he believes himself to be beloved simply because he’s doing a good job at work, then he has the only excuse he feels he needs to devoid his life of any interpersonal relationship. It’s a bleak look at taking pride in that which we do, but Mann knows exactly how to make it beautiful and impactful. Furthermore, he knows how to make that exact notion terrifying, and it serves as both a warning and a way of living for the audience. It’s what makes Ferrari, and Mann as a filmmaker, so utterly compelling. 

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour’ is Universally Intimate


Director: Sam Wrench
Stars: Taylor Swift, Amanda Balen, Taylor Banks

Synopsis: Experience the breathtaking Eras Tour concert, performed by the one and only Taylor Swift.


Universally intimate. Those are the words I use to describe Taylor’s music. I am reminded of her best lyrics – lyrics which share specific moments of life that paint a vivid picture of lives lived. Taylor Swift writes songs that are a mosaic of moments we all can relate to – but each moment is uniquely specific as if it were being shared by a best friend. It’s universal, and it’s intimate.

What Era’s tour concert Film manages to do is celebrate the impact each of these songs has had on the lives of the listener. Taylor Swift has been a pop culture icon for 15 years, and for most, at least one of her songs has left a lasting impression on our memories. Whether it’s “Love Story” or “Teardrops on my Guitar” or “Clean” or “Exile,” or “All Too Well.” Every era has connected with someone, and Eras tour manages to create an environment where every audience member is transported to a world where they can share in that universally intimate moment. There are performance pieces that infuse new meaning into older songs (such as the elegantly bittersweet performance of “Tolerate It”), and other songs are hype songs begging the audience to move from passive observation into active dance. Red and 1989 are the best examples of that active call into dance, and the energy that fills a theater is unlike anything else this side of Avengers Endgame. It’s an electric experience, being a part of an audience that gets transported away from a multiplex in a small town with no hope of ever seeing Taylor Swift in concert to front row seats at SoFi Stadium. 

The transportive effect of The Eras Concert Film is due in large part to the impeccable recording quality of the show. I made an effort to look for the cameras, and throughout the nearly three hour film, I only saw cameras 3 times. It’s magical, the almost perfection achieved by a crew that is purposefully invisible. Watching Eras doesn’t feel like watching a movie or a live recording; it feels like being there at SoFi stadium, surrounded by the noise of a crowd of over 100,000 people. So much of this can only come from the theater experience; with crystal clear sound reverberating off the walls, and a massive screen that floods your vision completely. Taylor goes from pop-star queen to goddess in the theater. The audio tracks are mastered to place the audience in the back of the theater, so cheering and getting into the music doesn’t feel out of place, while letting the music production and Taylor’s beautiful vocal work be front and center, using every speaker to its maximum effect.  

And Taylor is the main attraction of Eras. Her performance is controlled and powerful, and her stage presence demands the attention of the audience. This is a three-hour performance, and Taylor’s vocal (and physical) endurance is on full display. Empowering Taylor are the changing costumes and production design that shifts with each era.

The production design changes with each era, and where these transitions may have taken minutes in real time, through the medium of film, it’s instantaneous. One set ends as the next begins, and the anticipation for each set is palpable. 

All of these components mark Eras as a competent, and potentially great, concert film. But that isn’t the true magic of Eras – the true magic is found in the recontextualization of her music. I’ve already mentioned the jaw-dropping “Tolerate It” set piece, but it isn’t the only piece that utilizes the set to its fullest potential. “The Man”, “Betty,” “Look What You Made Me Do,” and “Vigilante Shit” are just a few songs that became truly transcendent on film. These songs have varying energies, but on a massive stage with a moving set and pitch perfect camera-work, these songs become all encompassing, begging the audience to look on in awe and burn this moment into their memories. Like many others on Twitter, I didn’t love “Vigilante Shit” on Midnight’s release day. It’s a fun throwback to the sonic palette of Reputation, but it doesn’t fit into the vibe of the rest of the album. Only through seeing it performed live, does one truly understand the vision that Taylor Swift has for the song. 

And yet, the most impactful moment in the concert for me isn’t in those songs with bombastic choreography and impressive sets. For me, the most impactful moment was when Taylor Swift asked the audience if they had ten minutes to spare. “All Too Well” may very well be my favorite Taylor Swift song. It may be composed of a simple four chord progression in the key of C major. It may not have the excellent production of Jack Antinoff. In its simplicity, “All Too Well” allows for one thing – the only thing that matters –  to shine through: Taylor Swift’s universally intimate storytelling. 

I’ve loved the song since it first came out. Every part of the song is burned into my mind, Taylor’s vocal timbre, the distorted swell of the electric guitar, and the snare drum that lingers every time it’s hit. That original CD, released by Big Machine Records, was played hundreds of times, just so I could skip to “All Too Well.” 

“All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version)” didn’t connect with me when I listened to it last year. At first, I thought it was a headphone issue – I wasn’t using my beautiful Sony WH1000-XM3’s. But when I listened to it again, I just couldn’t connect with it the same way as I always had. It wasn’t the expansion I had hoped for. Its guitar wasn’t as clear as in the original recording, and Taylor’s voice has changed throughout the years, making a record that was all about the naivety of love and innocence lost feel different. And of course, the snare didn’t linger anymore. I appreciated the ambition of Taylor re-releasing her music far more than I appreciated the actual re-recordings. They didn’t have the same emotional impact on me. Despite the more layered production, the additional verses, and that all new production, I found myself disengaged with the work. 

When I watched The Eras Tour movie, I was transported into a whole new world. I’ve made the joke that it was a religious experience with my siblings and friends… but the more I reflect on it, the more true that statement is. “All Too Well (10 Minute Version)” as featured in the film doesn’t feel less intimate than that original recording from 11 years ago, because despite the larger audience and the bigger production, every single eye is glued to Taylor’s impassioned singing and her powerful guitar playing. Through the medium of recorded live performance, when sitting in a room with 200 people, watching a performance played in front of 100,000, “All Too Well (10 Minute Version)” felt far more intimate than it ever had in my headphones playing in the dark of night. 
Era’s Tour is a massive achievement for Taylor Swift, and is a film that every swiftie – nay, every individual who considers themselves even slightly intrigued by her music – should be watching in cinemas. The three hours fly by in an atmosphere buzzing with excitement. It’s an extremely high quality production accessible to far more people than the concert was, at a fraction of the cost. And while some songs were cut from the live performances for the film, it flows together perfectly and makes for the biggest movie event of the year. 

Grade: A+

Movie Review: ‘Killers of the Flower Moon’ is an Indictment of Us


Director: Martin Scorsese
Writers: Martin Scorsese and Eric Roth
Stars: Leonardo DiCaprio, Lily Gladstone, Robert DeNiro

Synopsis: Members of the Osage tribe in the United States are murdered under mysterious circumstances in the 1920s, sparking a major F.B.I. investigation involving J. Edgar Hoover.


“Can you find the wolves in this picture?” 

In Martin Scorsese’s epic tale of the murder and torture of the Osage people in the 1920s, there are, indeed, many wolves to be found. But, as in life, they are never who they seem to be. Of course, if you know your American history, they will be easier to spot. But the people most affected by this story, the Osage, did not have that particular privilege. Their story here begins in pain, forced off their land and accepting the fact that their children will not learn their ways. Their piercing wails say more than any dialogue could ever muster. However, after miraculously striking oil on their new land, everything changes for the Osage. They become some of the richest people in the country. They have finery, and some level of power. But money does not equal equality and, over time, they intermingle with white people in this new land. 

Killers of the Flower Moon, at first, is a simple love story. Ernest Burkhart (Leonardo DiCaprio), after returning home from the war, without engaging in combat, lives with his uncle, William “King” Hale (Robert DeNiro). Here, he is shown how things work. The Osage have rights to property and money in the town, but there are opportunities to marry into this advantage. Dicaprio, playing a simple man, his jaw jutting in mockery of his movie star good looks, meets and quickly falls in love with Mollie (Lily Gladstone). Scorsese’s gift, in this first act, is to make us feel for Ernest, and believe the love story between him and Mollie.  Both DiCaprio and Gladstone shine in these sequences, their smirking flirtation creating heat, even without much physical contact. 

Scorsese and his production designer, Jack Fisk, seemingly build every set from the ground up, including Mollie’s house. This sense of lived-in authenticity creates a comfort that allows us to slide into this world with an easy grace. Additionally, the music created by the late Robbie Robertson creates the heartbeat of this very real story of almost unbelievable pain and loss. Scorsese is able to create a world that is both separate from us and able to focus on lives that are given an inherent arc and depth.

This initial love story, though wildly convincing, is quickly replaced with a world that absolutely sees color. The use of the Tulsa Race Massacre to help us understand that white supremacy, especially in the 1920’s will not allow non white people to gain real power, especially power not shared. Master editor Thelma Schoonmaker is able to weave this footage into the process of the film so expertly, that we feel it in the present moment. It is important to note the duplicitous nature of apparently kindly characters, as opposed to those involved in Tulsa. Scorsese makes a point to focus on characters who seem to be connected to Native people and their actions. King Hale, specifically, acts as a friend, even sitting with them in their pain, and yet, behind the scenes, he is a different man entirely. Don’t let his disapproval of the KKK fool you, he is simply careful to keep his hands clean while doing the same work. 

For all of his faults, and there are many, Hale does have awareness of exactly who he is. He is shrewd, cunning, and understands people. Ernest, in a sense, is his opposite. He believes that he is a good man, as most of us do. But he is foolish, and easily manipulated into doing the next wrong thing. Ernest truly believes that his actions are not hideous, are not manipulative, and are not evil. Scorsese and Eric Roth, pen a screenplay (based on a novel by David Grann) that creates an incredibly specific trick. They help us understand the reasoning behind Ernest, while also never letting him off the hook. Much of this can also be attributed to the transcendent performance of Gladstone. She takes a character that could have been relegated to the role of victim, and imbues her with strength, conviction, and deep soulful sorrow. Her performance here is unforgettable. Although, yes, Killers of the Flower Moon, is from the perspective of rotten white men, it is her story that is lasting in our minds.

Scorsese, unlike in previous iterations of stories of greed, refuses to let his audience consider being on the side of the monsters. Without giving much away, he actually shows unflinching torture of a people, without giving in to a tendency to glorify the violence. Given that it is a movie about numerous murders of Native people, it is a subtle piece of work, in terms of violence.

But that subtlety does not hide the monster of white supremacy. At two different points, the script makes a point to mention that the white man’s actual guts are to the point of bursting. Their insatiable greed and assumed right to riches compels them to devour. They devour until they are metaphorically vomiting Native blood and oil. In one particularly memorable scene, King Hale continues to use his knowledge by having fire set to his property to gain insurance money. Scorsese and cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto create a horrific, nearly satanic, sequence featuring DeNiro quietly watching from safety as the world burns and lackeys do his bidding. He seems to be above reproach, no matter what disgusting acts he puts into motion.

Martin Scorsese seems obsessed with terrible, evil men. He reckons with our ability to destroy one another, seemingly with ease. He, and the film, sets up a possibility that these men will have to reckon with their actions by the time the credits roll. Instead, he cleverly removes context of the ending of the film and forces us, the audience, to reckon with the role we play instead. Terrible things have indeed occurred throughout history. Are we doing anything to change that in the future? Or are we simply devouring their pain greedily?

Grade: A

Middleburg Film Festival 2023 Preview

I am happy to be returning to the Middleburg Film Festival (October 19-22) in Virginia. As in past years, I will review a handful of movies I will see there, most of them becoming Oscar-winners. Last year, Brendan Fraser appeared with The Whale, director Edward Berger came to speak about All Quiet On The Western Front, and I got a ugly selfie with Rian Johnson after watching Glass Onion. I had fun in this small town at the Salamander Resort which hosts most of the movies being shown. My lineup is already set up and here are some films that I will be checking on.

American Fiction 

Winning at Toronto is a strong indication that a film is going to be nominated for multiple Oscars. Newcomer Cord Jefferson writes and directs this comedy-drama following an African-American writer (Jeffrey Wright) who struggles to get his novels published because, apparently, they aren’t Black enough. In frustration, he writes another novel inserting every cliche and every stereotype about African-Americans that suddenly becomes a best-seller, but questions the author’s view as a Black man. Jefferson will be presenting at the festival, so it is an opportunity to see this breakthrough work and meet Jefferson, a new breath of fresh air in American filmmaking. 

American Symphony

Matthew Heineman’s new documentary follows Grammy Award-winner Jon Batiste, the former band leader of The Late Show with Stephen Colbert. At the peak of his power, he gets the opportunity to create his own original symphony for performance at Carnegie Hall. Simultaneously, as he prepares to marry his girlfriend, author Suleika Jaouad, they learn she has a new recurring battle with leukemia. It’s a story of love, life, and music to bring happiness in a moment of uncertainty. 

The Holdovers

Both screenings of this film quickly sold out for the festival, which tells you how anticipated this film is. The new movie from Alexander Payne stars Paul Giamatti as a disliked teacher at a boarding school who has to watch over a talented, but rebellious student, Angus. Along with the school head cook, played by Da’Vine Joy Randolph, the three learn to be a family of sorts during the holidays and deal with their own separate grief. Payne is also going to be present at the festival, giving me a golden opportunity for another ugly selfie.

Saltburn

Emerald Fennell’s follow-up to her Oscar-winning Promising Young Woman is another saucy, dark dramedy following a middle-class Oxford student (Barry Keoghan) who is invited to spend the summer at his friend’s mansion. Introduced to the aristocratic side of life, a path of desire is formed between him and the rest of the family for what is available. Jacob Elordi, Richard Grant, Rosamund Pike, and Carey Mulligan also star in this thriller of a battle of wits for who gets what they want.

Zone Of Interest

Writer/director Johnathan Glazer won the Grand Prix at Cannes with his chilling drama about the family of Auschwitz’s commandant living across the river from the infamous concentration camp. They live a idyllic life, but small reminders on what is actually happening make their way across the river to them, and the possibility of moving is unacceptable to the commandant’s wife. It is a Holocaust drama that chooses to go as close as they can to the worst of it while sitting in the prettiest section of grass next door. 

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Top Ten Vincent Price Horrors

Beyond his more famous Poe and Roger Corman collaborations, Vincent Price made numerous horror pictures filled with mayhem and macabre. Here are ten essentials from Price’s scary oeuvre showcasing his tongue in cheek terrors and thespian menace.

10. The Fly

“Help me! Help me!” Although modern audiences may find this 1958 science fiction horror film tame or hokey compared to David Cronenberg’s 1986 remake; the colorful mid-century décor and high tech, mad scientist hysterics compliment the French angles and buzzing score. Vincent Price and his sister-in-law Patricia Owens (Seven Women from Hell) debate science versus religion, the sacredness of life over human intelligence, and the horrors of meddling with it all. Early teleportation attempts and talk of transporting food to solve the planet’s problems remain provocative amid surprisingly decent if primitive special effects. Catching a little fly makes for some interesting suspense as the distorted bug views build toward an intense insect reveal and wonderful, albeit tiny, shockers.


9. House on Haunted Hill

Scene chewing Price’s bored millionaire Frederick Loren throws a party for his young wife Carol Omhart (Spider Baby) in this 1959 scary directed by William Castle (The Tingler). Five desperate, financially challenged, average Joes complete Loren’s guest list, and they will all be locked in for the night at his allegedly haunted Frank Lloyd Wright estate in hopes of surviving until morning and walking away with $10,000. Most of the cast are relative unknowns today, the special effects are obvious, the premise now old hat, and the colorized versions vary in success. Fortunately, Price thoroughly enjoys the cheeky interplay, acid vats, and poison possibilities. There are some fun jump scares, skeletons, revolvers, and mini coffin party favors to accent this short seventy-five minutes. Although firmly steeped in a fifties safety that doesn’t quite hold up, the greed is timeless. What would you do for $10,000?

8. House of Wax

Obsessive sculptor Price seeks revenge for his burned down wax museum in this 1953 3-D Technicolor remake of The Mystery of the Wax Museum. Now deformed and maimed, he demands his new titular spectacle will be a success – thanks to a little help from the dead. Certainly, there are now several unnecessary scenes designed specifically for the 3-D craze with ping pong balls and can can girls stalling the mayhem. However, the vibrant carnival mood and turn of the century atmosphere provide decrepit wax delights and murderous scandals in an interesting mix of Victorian looks and fifties production values. Finely dressed, shrill, fainting debutante Carolyn Jones (The Addams Family) leads to screams and high-end scares – a twisted, death mask beauty. Of course, Big VP hones his campy, over the top horror mastery, and viewers root for his slick talking, multifaceted artist. We believe his masterfully diabolical plan to serve his enemies their comeuppance with guillotines and molten perils even as the wigs come off and the police storm the waxworks.

7. The Last Man on Earth

Unlike the broader action of Will Smith’s I am Legend or the seventies wilds of Charlton Heston’s The Omega Man, a wonderfully subtle and largely solitary performance from Vincent Price anchors this 1964 debut adaption of the Richard Matheson novel. The voiceovers and somewhat comical undead might be tough for contemporary audiences, and Matheson himself was apparently, surprisingly displeased with the results here. Fortunately, the melancholy focus and slowly degenerating delivery invokes post-apocalyptic depression and isolation. Flashbacks detailing the genesis of the vampire-like pestilence and the subsequent familial collapse visually break up the despair before burning bodies, ill fated dogs, vaccines, and church standoffs. Though at times dated, the intimate ruminations, needs for companionship, and personal versus society questions remain thought provoking examinations on the arrogance of man and humanity’s shortsightedness.

6. Witchfinder General

This 1968 does 1645 British release was mismarketed as The Conqueror Worm stateside, but the original narration provides the Cromwell history and Matthew Hopkins carte blanche to exterminate witchcraft. Freshly built gallows, executions, and screams disrupt the authentic locales and rustic scenery in a no frills, brutal opening. Dramatic crescendos, tunics, and Roundhead armor invoke period bleak amid Royalist skirmishes, bawdy soldiers, and horse chases. Magistrates capitalizing on the changing political landscape look the other way on rampant injustice and religious persecutions thanks to superstition, dungeons, whips, and torture. Unfortunately, it’s the innocent, young romantics who suffer the violence and assaults at the hands of neighbors seeking to expel any sign of Satan. Price’s Hopkins is menacing and unswayed, forcing confessions and faking evidence in his so-called noble interrogations. He insists on being called by his self proclaimed rank but protests that he enjoys this torture for silver business the way his vile henchman does. Young ladies, however, can plead for Hopkins’ favor in private – not that it saves those charged with witchcraft. This is an English Civil War piece about horrific things rather than a horror movie meant to scare the audience, and Hopkins’ torment escalates with devil’s mark pin pricks, hot irons, and axes all in the name of God’s work while townsfolk either cross themselves or spit at the accused. Although some may find this slow or tame today, the mass hysteria, prayers, and consequences remain most timely and provocative considering there is never a single witch in the film.

5. The Oblong Box
Deformed Alister Williamson (The Gorgon) is locked in the attic by his brother Vincent Price upon their return from the family’s African plantation in this 1969 parable. In his attempt to escape, however, Edward is accidentally buried alive before being rescued by grave robbing doctor Christopher Lee (Horror of Dracula). The mysterious, masked Edward is charming, romancing the pretties while he plots his revenge. Unfortunately, the murderous blackmail escalates with rapacious violence and extreme justice. He’s been wronged and misunderstood, but how far will he go? Although it would have been intriguing to see Price play both brothers and he is top billed, his over the top, weary, and conflicted noble doesn’t have as much screen time as expected. The loosely based Poe inspirations aren’t as strong as they could be thanks to stereotypical Blaxploitation, Voodoo montages, and Colonial Africa mistreatment. Fortunately, the 1969 does 1865 mod meets Victorian works amid up close, can’t look away claustrophobic killer point of view and askew zooms. Despite a somewhat thin story execution, the charming cast and masked mystery provide classic scares.

4. Madhouse

Peter Cushing (Curse of Frankenstein) coaxes the aging star of his Dr. Death movies, Vincent Price, out of semi-retirement for a new television show in this 1974 meta mixing old set photos and previous film footage with new copycat crimes. Cast and crew are dying amid killer viewpoints, seventies zooms, and extreme angles reflecting the distorted actuality and askew stability. Play within a play illusions and horror show within a horror film lines blur with questions on whether Price’s unstable actor Toombes is the victim or if the character Dr. Death is the killer. Although plot holes and audience confusion are apparent, the demented debates don’t take the winks seriously. Superb support, vampire costumes, celebrity parties, and simple smoke and mirrors death scenes make creative use of the set within set themes as sound effects and screams from the incorporated reels accent the fade-ins and film splicing. Price toys with the classy, sympathetic, degrading sanity in honest homage while tongue is planted firmly in cheek for the self-reverent parody. We feel for this terrorized former star, yet the Dr. Death persona is no less sinister in quality as dual imagery and creepy soliloquies invoke a haunting portrayal.

2. The Abominable Dr. Phibes and 3. Dr. Phibes Rises Again!

Vincent Price takes Biblical revenge in this 1971 cult classic brimming with bizarre visuals, weird music, and mod psychedelic meets Deco design. Stereotypical bumbling British inspectors and extended silent scenes will bother some, but beautiful, angelic, deadly assistant Virginia North (On Her Majesty’s Secret Service) is as delightfully disturbing as the crafty vengeance. The script unfolds layer by layer, and it takes a half hour for Price to “speak.” His wild eyes match the obsessive planning and methodically orchestrated kills toeing the line between mad man and genius. The intelligent, witty, and totally campy performances rise toward a fun, memorable conclusion befitting a film that’s quite unlike any other. A silly recap of the first film opens the 1972 sequel, and the over the top crescendos and expected eccentricities continue three years later. Although the demented humor and far-fetched resurrection plots aren’t as colorful or flashy as our predecessor, the old school abstract and anachronistic seventies flair makes for some freaky deaths. Distorted editing accents the suspense, archaeology adventure, Egyptian elixirs, and demented love story as Peter Cushing and Robert Quarry (Count Yorga, Vampire!) match wits with Price’s undeniable twistedness.

1. Theatre of Blood

Believed dead after his suicide attempt, Price’s Edward Lionheart takes Shakespearean revenge on the critics who denied him due acclaim in this multifaceted 1973 vendetta. The vintage London locations look worn and the depressed dressings feel cheap amid confusing background characters, dry melodrama, obvious foreboding, and flashback frames. The deadly stage politics and mixed motivations are uneven, taking too long to get to the hysterical Othello and exceptional Titus twists. Fortunately, the play facades and well edited suspense build to farcical delight with ironic classic music and silent film motifs. Ingenious Diana Rigg (The Avengers) is up to the challenge as Lionheart’s daughter Edwina, and it’s fun to guess who’s going to die next and in what Bard fashion. The intentionally exaggerated theatrics increase masterfully with aplomb and panache as our former star disconnects from reality in graceful, nuanced yet sociopathic and demented soliloquies. We shouldn’t doubt Price could do high drama, and his intense performance is laced with impressive wit, sadness, and class even as he’s clearly having fun with the disguises gone awry. We enjoy seeing the pompous critics get their predictable comeuppance in these uninhibited seventies does Shakespeare deaths thanks to the sinful humor and wild thespian mayhem.

Op-Ed: Andersonian Grief: Bargaining

0

ELI

Everyone knows Custer died at Little Bighorn. What my book supposes is… Maybe he didn’t.

Good con artists aren’t just good liars, they’re good storytellers. They build a narrative to keep you enthralled and feeling like you’re in control. Their own truth, what they hold onto through the lies, is in the score. That is the only thing real about them is how much they want what you have. As soon as they have it, they want that prize from another person. There isn’t ever going to be one final job for them, there isn’t one last hurrah, there’s always something else on the horizon. They’re buying time by stringing someone along. It’s the same with a griever who’s bargaining.

A person who finds they’re at an impasse builds themselves a narrative out, toward their end goal. Like with denial, a person in grief who reaches bargaining, or who begins at bargaining, is in their own world. Their new world isn’t to block out everything from getting in the way it is with denial, but to manipulate the world as it is into the new world they want it to be, which in many cases is the world they had before. Bargaining can also evoke a type of nostalgia.

Mr. Fox (George Clooney, Fantastic Mr. Fox), Foxy to his friends, used to really be someone. He used to be the best thief in his small community of woodland animals. He used to have freedom before he became tied down. As much as he loves his wife, and is trying to understand his son, there’s something missing. He’s in mourning for who he used to be. So, he tries a little of the old magic.

Foxy finds himself at the apex of the greatest set of scores of his career. He justifies his actions with lies because it just feels so good to be a thief again. It’s so good that he can’t see how his actions are tearing his life asunder as the men he’s stealing from go to great lengths to try and catch him. Even as he sees the destitution he’s forced into, he still attempts to bargain for more time, for one more score, for just a little taste of the magic of his past. He’s willing to give up everything for that taste, until he finally sees the people right in front of him and he has to do a bargaining of a different kind with Mrs. Fox (Meryl Streep).

This is where Foxy is separate from other con artists. For him, the deal he struck with Felicity was out of love. While he’s lied and stolen against her wishes, it’s Felicity’s rationality that brings Foxy back from the clouds. As much as he tries justification with her, it’s the pessimist inside Felicity, that lightning she always paints, that holds her ground against him. The last bargain Foxy strikes is getting to stay with Felicity. 

It’s the same with the biggest bargainer of them all, Royal Tenenbaum (Gene Hackman, The Royal Tenenbaums). Unlike Foxy, Royal fails to see the hurt he’s caused because he’s too self absorbed. He traded lies in his former career as a lawyer and in every interaction he has with people. Royal is the kind of con artist that’s greedy for attention more than for wealth. He’s a narcissist who cons people with things they want to hear in order for them to like him. With his children, though, he made a mistake. He chose a favorite.

When Royal chose Richie (Luke Wilson) over Chas (Ben Stiller) and Margot (Gwyneth Paltrow) he exposed his lies to the two of them. If Royal were to tell it himself, he would say he needed to toughen the two of them up, that he needed to build them into the geniuses he knew they could become by challenging their perception of his affection for them. Yet, in that bargain he lost them, seemingly forever. It’s as Royal loses the last comfort of his old life that he grieves for the life he could have had if he had gotten out of his own way. That’s when he begins to bargain for it back with his ego driven nostalgia of the beatific past he’s told himself existed.

He weasels his way back into the family in the most blatant lie a person tells for attention. He tells people he’s dying. It’s a way for him to regain their love through sympathy. It blows up in his face, of course, because he can’t win what he didn’t have with Chas and Margot. They see right through him because, in a way, he knows he deserves this ostracization. That’s just his greatest bargaining move of all, though. He’s set up this obvious ploy, this ruse that he barely hides in order to be caught by Henry (Danny Glover). In a way he plays both sides in order to get back on the inside. He anticipates every angle and changes tack as the pieces slide into place. At least that’s what he wants us to think because what he wants us to think is all we’ll ever really know or understand of Royal Tenenbaum. 

Sam Shakusky and Suzy Bishop (Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward, Moonrise Kingdom) feel that no one outside of the two of them will ever understand their grief. They have seen the people in front of them for a long time and have realized, those people are doing it wrong. The two young people have been unseen, unheard, pushed, and pulled. They’ve had it with hypocritical adults and their arbitrary rules. They mourn for a time they don’t believe ever happened. A time when it felt like they were truly cared for and loved. Their only way forward is to buy some time with the only other person who understands.

In spite of their ostensible immaturity, Sam and Suzy know that their love for one another comes from a genuine knowledge of a kindred spirit. Their time spent playing house isn’t just fun and games, but to prove that they know how to do this better than their parents and all adults. They have a nostalgia for the life they haven’t experienced yet because they know if they’re caught, they will never experience it with each other. Adults tear down, separate, belittle, and scoff at what they don’t understand.

These adults don’t know how far Suzy and Sam are willing to go. They couldn’t possibly fathom the lengths of these teens’ bargaining tactics. The two of them turn to the classic literary lovebird trope and walk out onto a roof in a hurricane, intimating that if their love isn’t acknowledged, this will be the end of it. Because of their age, because of the obstinance of adults, it’s only logical that this step be taken. They’re secretly hoping logic will prevail, that these adults aren’t as far gone as they assume they are. Luckily for these two, the adults aren’t and get them off the ledge.

Sam and Suzy want time. Royal wants the family he neglected. Foxy seeks a return to the notoriety and glamor that comes with being his small world’s best thief. Bargaining and denial are so intertwined when one is in grief. Yet, the clever person, or fox, knows that the difference is that the person bargaining thinks they are in control even as they give themselves to the powers of fate. The bargainer makes the attempt, they try to force the hand and sometimes live to shrug, smirk, and try again. In spite of the drastic measures they take to escape their grief, the bargainer gets little except for the perspective on how their coping affects those they love. They can’t bargain for love, though, they have to earn it by doing the hardest thing a con artist has to do. They have to tell the truth.

Movie Review (NYFF 2023): ‘Last Summer’ is a Precarious Balancing Act


Director: Catherine Breillat
Writer: Catherine Breillat
Stars: Lea Drucker, Olivier Raboudin, Samuel Kircher

Synopsis: Follows Anne, a brilliant lawyer who lives with her husband Pierre and their daughters. Anne gradually engages in a passionate relationship with Theo, Pierre’s son from a previous marriage, putting her career and family life in danger.


With Last Summer, Catherine Breillat has made her return to filmmaking after a decade. The auteur filmmaker has been away from cinema for a while, but one thing is apparent: the provocative nature of her films has not lessened during this hiatus. With her latest, Breillat confronts her audience with a taboo subject, but is also able to interject a palpable sense of youthfulness and beauty into a story that will have many doing all they can to block the on-screen images from their minds. The film is centered around Anne (Léa Drucker) and Pierre (Olivier Raboudin), and the seemingly calm and affluent life they live with their young daughters. Her stepson, Théo (Samuel Kircher), moves into their home after getting in trouble at school, and the lens of the film immediately shifts. Breillat composes nearly every frame with Anne firmly rooted in the center of it all. In the hands of Drucker, this performance soars into a realm of intrigue. It forces the audience to grapple with why exactly Anne would choose to throw a brick through the glass house so perfectly crafted by herself. Pushing her audience further than that, Breillat seems to be prodding us with a different question: why not? And what happens after it’s shattered? I’m talking, of course, about the relationship this stepmother and stepson develop.

In a smart move, Breillat does not abuse a “will they/won’t they” approach to the moral dilemma of Last Summer. On the contrary, she rather quickly tosses her lead character, and subsequently the audience, into a trial by fire. It’s a fitting notion, considering that Anne is a lawyer. The film opens mid-conversation between Anne and an underage client who appears to be going to court after being sexually assaulted. With a very pragmatic approach, Anne describes what’s likely to happen. In the courtroom, her client will be inappropriately labeled and her trauma will be belittled. Anne makes the keen observation that victims are usually the ones that end up the accused. Within her very blunt statements on how the court case will play out, Anne is shown to be very matter-of-fact, as well as having an innate understanding of the difference between right and wrong. Her relationship with her husband is one that they have clearly settled into for quite some time. Both are clearly operating on very busy timetables, so the little time they get with one another is rather muted, almost on the verge of pure pragmatism. The barest of pleasantries are shown, but it doesn’t appear that there’s a wall between the two. Anne reminds Pierre she loves a body that is “lived in”, and proceeds to tell a story from her youth during blatantly hollow sex. Enter Théo, who Breillat quickly uses as her manipulative thematic vessel with a massive grin. The complexities of Anne as a character are now absolutely blown open, as the morals and ideologies we have seen from her thus far are thrown to the wayside in favor of reprehensible actions and a complete surrender to both our deepest emotions and basest desires.

So much of Last Summer hinges on all parties involved nailing a precarious balancing act. While it would be easy for Breillat to turn audiences against the film and its characters almost immediately, she takes a far more interesting approach. Instead, she forces us to witness all these acts and grapple with the choices made, and the emotions fueling them. A fine set of performances are necessary for something like this; luckily the film has them in spades. Drucker is deeply captivating in a particularly dual-wielded approach. On one hand, Anne desperately tries to balance all that she has willingly thrown herself into. Even so, half of her performance convincingly captures pure self-destruction in a mostly believable way. At one point, Anne reveals her biggest fear; it’s not losing everything, but rather, making everything disappear for no clear reason. The other half of Drucker’s magnificent performance, and it’s what makes the third act so electric, is how she handles Anne’s self-preservation. A single line of dialogue, in perhaps the most climactic scene in the film, feels as if Breillat is directly addressing her viewers through Anne. Drucker delivers it with such a soothing venom that I was unable to contain myself in my seat. There’s also Kircher’s debut performance, which accurately captures just how annoying an entitled 17-year-old can be. His nihilistic attitude and lackadaisical approach to life is both relatable, but also wholly annoying for anybody looking back on that age. It’s when the two performers are brought together that the magic occurs. We witness Drucker’s guard coming down in real time, and it’s difficult to tell if she knows it’s occurring or not. It’s a part of her character that she keeps hidden, as we all have assuredly done when realizing a crush is developing.

Even when the act Théo puts on runs dry, there’s a wit about his character that’s played pitch perfect. One scene early on shows Anne looking at Théo as he breaks down his thoughts on relationships. It’s something that any rational person would be put off by, yet Breillat cuts to Anne, and we remember this is not a rational relationship or a rational film. Anne’s eyes are engrossed and deeply attentive, hanging on every word out of the boy’s mouth. When discussing the film, Breillat emphasized how she felt there had to be stakes beyond the macro-conflict. Thus, she partly depicts this relationship through the frenzied lens of spontaneous teenage love. Last Summer is a cinematic minefield waiting to detonate, and any scene with supporting characters nearby has us wincing at the thought of the two being discovered. The fact that Breillat is able to convincingly walk this tightrope for 100 minutes is proof of undeniable talent.

Even so, one might hope for a bit more characterization regarding Anne and why she makes the decisions shown. The notion of depicting teenage love is an interesting one, and self-destructive behavior in film is inherently enticing to watch. Still, Drucker is doing an immense amount of lifting in making this relationship feel as genuine as it could be all things considered, and the script providing some support could be helpful in bringing that third act home in a mightier way. That’s not to say that the ending of this film isn’t deeply shocking; its final image is fascinatingly haunting, but with such a strong third act choice being made by Breillat, more avenues being explored would bring forth even more of an impact. Yet with Last Summer, Breillat, after four decades of filmmaking, proves that a compelling secret being withheld is always a lively cinematic experience; even if the lie in this case is meant to repulse and shock us on some level.

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Dark Harvest’ is Memorable Despite Awful Writing


Director: David Slade
Writer: Michael Gilio
Stars: Casey Likes, E’myri Crutchfield, Elizabeth Reaser

Synopsis: A legendary monster called Sawtooth Jack terrorizes residents in a small Midwestern town while he rises from the cornfields every Halloween and makes his way toward those who are brave enough to confront him.


This piece was published during the 2023 SAG-AFTRA strike. Without the labor of the actors currently on strike, the movie being covered here wouldn’t exist.

David Slade’s latest movie, Dark Harvest, is a strange beast. On the one hand, it has one of the worst screenplays of the year, with characters so paper-thin who deliver the most ridiculous lines (such as “You got a gun?” “I got a gun.” or, “Where did you learn how to do that?” “I know things.”) in the most nonchalant ways imaginable. On the other hand, the film contains some of the most creative action setpieces of the year and an overarching story that feels so expansive it’s almost criminal how Slade and screenwriter Michael Gilio undersell it at almost every turn.

Based on the book of the same name by Norman Partridge, Dark Harvest takes place in 1963, where, from our understanding, high school teenagers must participate in “The Run” every Halloween night to keep the town’s crops safe. “The Run” consists of the boys being unable to eat for three days before the event, so their lust for food will convince them to run towards Sawtooth Jack (Dustin Ceithamer), a creature who magically appears every Halloween. Whoever kills Sawtooth Jack first gets to win a very nice car and get out of town.

Richie (Casey Likes) wants to achieve this after his brother, Jim (Britain Dalton), won The Run last year. He wants to win to join his brother wherever he may be, but as The Run continues, he learns about the town’s dark secret and Sawtooth Jack’s origins, putting him on a path to end the curse once and for all.

It’s in this specific moment that Dark Harvest becomes interesting, but one has to go through an expository-driven first act that is filled with so many tired clichés that it’s easy to think the film won’t progress to a somewhat satisfying turn. It’s particularly hard to invest ourselves in a movie with no interesting characters. Every male character is one-dimensional: they all exude machismo in some way (either through smoking cigarettes, dressing up like Danny Zuko from Grease, or fighting man to man…with knives, of course!) and think they’re the coolest dude in town. There’s no difference between Richie and Riley Blake (Austin Autry), except that the latter-mentioned character acts more like a bully. Remove that, though, and they both have the same arc.

The only character with a modicum of development is Kelly Haines (E’myri Crutchfield), who acts as Richie’s love interest. However, her arc is also associated with some of the film’s most problematic moments, as she is the town’s only Black girl and is frequently dehumanized with racial slurs hurled towards her.

When the two characters kiss for the first time, it’s in front of the town, in which its citizens all look on with utter disgust. This only serves as a reminder of how deeply-rooted their racism is, if you didn’t understand it through their constant insults of its only Mexican kid, Bud (Alejandro Akara), who is far more underdeveloped than Kelly. Still, Slade and Gilio give Kelly enough agency throughout the movie that she not only stands up to herself in these difficult moments but also helps Richie at his attempt to defeat Sawtooth Jack.

Then, we’ve got Officer Jerry Ricks (Luke Kirby), who could be an interesting antagonist for Richie/Kelly but is played with such an overexaggerated tone by Kirby that it falls completely flat on its face. There isn’t a scene in which Ricks isn’t yelling incessantly like a cartoon character who got his toe stubbed by Bugs Bunny or something of that ilk. I don’t know what he was exactly doing here, but it’s embarrassing.

It wouldn’t have been that big of a problem if the other performances had balanced things out, but it saddens me to report that none of the actors give any noteworthy turns here. Even Elizabeth Reaser, who previously collaborated with Slade on The Twilight Saga: Eclipse and Nightmare Cinema’s This Way to Egress, can’t muster up something at least palatable as Richie’s mother, especially during one of the film’s bigger emotional moments.

Even Likes delivers his lines with no sense of engagement to the story. If the main actor can’t seem to care about the film he stars in, how do you expect the audience to want to watch the whole thing? Well, there is something Slade can do to at least make the film semi-compelling, which is to make its core sequence, The Run, feel like the most exhilarating extended horror action setpiece in ages.

Cinematographer Larry Smith consistently shoots Dark Harvest frenetically, shaking the camera in various ways to disorient the viewers. But he ups the ante during The Run. He creates some extremely cathartic and truly vivid images, particularly during a sequence set in a cornfield where Sawtooth Jack reawakens and starts to murder some of The Run’s participants in one creatively bloody way after another. I expected the film to be violent, but not quite like this. And it’s all the better for it. There isn’t a single action setpiece in Dark Harvest that feels stale – Slade’s penchant for self-aware campiness with the same energy as Anthony Dod Mantle’s lens in 28 Days Later creates some incredibly gnarly stuff that practically saves the film from being a complete failure.

A final plot twist, which reveals not only the origins of Sawtooth Jack but expands upon the town’s connection to The Run, also helps to lift Dark Harvest and give it some form of emotional investment. It also brings massive weight to the movie’s ending, which could shock some people, even if one can see it coming a mile away. Still, its impact works, and its post-credit scene may or may not set up a Dark Harvest 2, making us want to clamor for more, even if Partridge only wrote one book. 

Releasing Dark Harvest on VOD with little to no promotion might have been a mistake for Amazon, as it marks the final movie to be distributed by United Artists Releasing before it merged into Amazon MGM Studios earlier last month. It was a sign of an absolute lack of confidence from the studio after its release was delayed many times due to the COVID-19 pandemic. As a result, Dark Harvest may not find a big reach for a broader audience to turn it into a cult classic like Slade’s 30 Days of Night. However, those who have seen it will probably be inclined to recommend it to others, even if every actor does completely shoddy work and the screenplay is, by all accounts, terrible. There’s just enough good in it to make it the next great midnight movie classic, and that might be enough for anyone looking for a killer time at the movies during Spooky Season.

Grade: C+

Movie Review: ‘Totally Killer’ is a Starter Slasher


Director: Nahnatchka Khan
Writers: David Matalon, Sasha Perl-Raver, and Jen D’Angelo
Stars: Kiernan Shipka, Olivia Holt, Charlie Gillespie

Synopsis: When the infamous “Sweet Sixteen Killer” returns 35 years after his first murder spree to claim another victim, 17-year-old Jamie accidentally travels back in time to 1987, determined to stop the killer before he can start.


Nahnatchka Khan takes tired concepts, like the horror and teen comedy genres, and doesn’t make them fresh again, but somehow incredibly entertaining. That’s because Don’t Trust the B—- in Apartment 23 and Fresh Off the Boat writer/director (and frequent Ali Wong collaborator) adapts an American black comedy slasher into an often hilarious cultural critique of a decade known for its social faux pas. In other words, the film is Totally Killer.

Khan’s film follows Jamie (Kiernan Shipka), a 17-year-old high school student rebelling against her overbearing and controlling mother, Pam (Julie Bowen), and her needy father, Blake (Lochlyn Munro). Jamie wants to go to a costume party with her best friend, Amelia (Kelcey Mawema), but Pam wants her daughter to stay home and hand out candy to the trick-or-treaters. That’s because, in 1987, Pam had her three best friends murdered by the Sweet 16 Killer.

Frankly, Jamie is sick of hearing about it. Blake drops her off, and Pam hands out the candy. That’s until the Sweet 16 Killer returns wearing their famous Max Headroom masks. The killer is equipped with a giant knife. But make no mistake, the joke is on them, because Pam is a kick-ass mom who has been taking self-defense classes for years. 

After hiding numerous weapons around the house (she makes the fatal mistake of talking too much), Pam makes a valiant attempt to survive the attack but is found stabbed to death by some grade schoolers looking for free diabetes-inducing treats. 

Now that her mother is the fourth victim on the notorious killer’s list, Pam begins to try to save her mother by traveling back to a time dominated by big hair, colorful neon shirts with shoulder pads, and acid-washed jeans, where all the rage is to stop the killer, which means it will save her mother in the future—no matter the consequences.

Totally Killer was written by David Matalon, Sasha Perl-Raver, and Jen D’Angelo. Typically, too many hands in a script would make things chaotic and incoherent. However, Khan’s film hits the right note of clever satire, biting commentary, and horror thrills to create a consistently entertaining, yet not all surprising, streaming dark comedy with fun twists of nostalgia. Just like Happy Death Day and Freaky, respectively.

Totally Killer has a much lighter touch because the film is more comic and fantasy-based than anything. Yet, since the film is produced by Jason Blum when murders occur, they can be sobering because they are particularly jarring. I mean, who wants to see Claire Dunphy scream for her life and get stabbed a couple dozen times in the back for fun (even though I could see Phil Dunphy finally snapping)? Since the film really is a comedy, the writers make the horror count.

While the script can be very clever with its jokes, particularly when Kiernan Shipka’s deadpan reactions to the politically incorrect actions, statements, and overall attitude towards women clash with today’s feminist principles, the time travel plot is glossed over without real thought or care, with a flimsy excuse of a conductor. It’s as if they wanted to do Back to the Future but had the Netflix streaming dud When We First Met in the background, threw a photobooth into the script, and washed their hands of it. Not to mention, why not just go back to the night of her mom’s murder and not decades prior?

However, that’s a minor complaint, because Khan’s film doesn’t want to redefine the time travel genre. Totally Killer is meant to provide an entertaining and smart social commentary, in which it slays often and well. It’s an entertaining slasher entry for people who are non-horror enthusiasts, but want to dip their toes in those bloody good waters that October has to offer. 

Grade: B

Op-Ed: Norman Jewison: Good Director in a Terrible Business

A film director who can work with different genres touching on many facets of life is a chameleon. One of these film directors is Norman Jewison. Alive today aged 97, Jewison is a living treasure who has worked with talent across multiple generations in films that remain landmarks in filmmaking. He talked about racial matters, political follies, and traditional moments in life under a comic umbrella. Jewison was a particular mainstream director who also kept his independence and avoided getting caught up in the Hollywood glam that would also spit out A-list directors who ended their careers earlier. 

Opening Takes

Norman Jewison was born in 1927 in Toronto, Canada. In contrast to his last name, he is not Jewish but was raised a Protestant. As a kid, he became interested in theatre and would attend college as a writer and director of amateur productions. After graduating, Jewison moved to London as a part-time writer and actor for the BBC before returning to Canada and getting work as an assistant director for the newly established Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, the CBC. He wrote, directed, and produced numerous shows that got the attention of executives for NBC in New York who subsequently hired him. Working with Andy Williams, Harry Belafonte, Jackie Gleason, and July Garland, Jewison developed a positive reputation that led to Tony Curtis hiring him to direct his first feature film, 40 Pounds of Trouble, in 1962. 

Jewison’s first movies were comedies. After he directed the Rock Hudson-Doris Day vehicle Send Me No Flowers in 1964, Jewison sought to get into more serious ground and made his breakthrough with The Cincinnati Kid starring Steve McQueen in 1965. The Cold War satire followed this up, The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming in 1966 with Alan Arkin and Carl Reiner, which resulted in four Academy Award nominations including Best Picture. It was the first Oscar nomination for Jewison, who was the producer. There would be more nominations coming, but it would come from much more serious material.

Studying The Racial Divide

After he served in the Royal Canadian Navy during the latter half of the Second World War, Jewison traveled to the American South. Encountering the Jim Crow laws and witnessing open segregation influenced the director to make stories that combated such prejudice. His chance came with In The Heat Of The Night (1967), the story about a Philadelphia cop (Sidney Poitier) coming through a Mississippi town and being forced to work with a racist sheriff (Rod Steiger) to investigate a murder. It was a story in the thick of the Civil Rights movement where racial views remained even after laws that abolished segregation were enacted. Jewison’s touch, however, made it more accepted by audiences who would not be as interested in more serious subjects. 

In The Heat Of The Night won five Oscars, including Best Picture, while Jewison was nominated for Best Director. The ceremony was delayed by two days after the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Two more films by Jewison returned to the subject of racism. First, another Best Picture nominee, A Soldier’s Story (1984), is about a Black JAG Officer who investigates the murder of a Black soldier in Jim Crow Louisiana, and then in 1999 with The Hurricane. It told the true story of boxer Rubin Carter (Denzel Washington), who is falsely convicted of murder and gets help to fight for his freedom with the help of Canadian activists who see his conviction based on racial profiling. 

Gift Of Tone

Jewison’s experience in musicals from TV, namely Judy Garland’s comeback special in 1961, allowed him to direct two notable films: Fiddler on The Roof (1971) and Jesus Christ Superstar (1973). For Fiddler, a musical set in 1900s Russia with themes of anti-Semitism it would mean more Oscar nominations including Best Picture, Director, and Lead Actor (the enchanting Topal), and winning three. He went from Judaism to Christianity for Superstar, adapting the acclaimed rock opera from Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice, but did not have the same acclaim as Fiddler did.

Other genres were touched on by Jewison. 1975’s Rollerball was a science-fiction dystopia drama starring James Caan that told about a future with a violent sport controlled by computers and run by corporations where death is part of the game. Next, came 1978’s F.I.S.T., a labor union crime drama with Sylvester Stallone and Rod Steiger loosely based on the Teamsters and their former disappeared leader, Jimmy Hoffa.  Jewison returned to the religious film drama in 1985 with Agnes of God, set in a convent in Quebec, Canada. After a nun (Meg Tilly) suddenly gives birth to a stillborn child and claims her pregnancy was from an immaculate form, a psychologist (Jane Fonda) investigates to see if the nun is mentally fit for trial. 

Heart Of Charm 

In between, Jewison would go back to comedies with films like Gaily, Gaily (1969), …And Justice For All (1981), Best Friends (1982), and Other People’s Money (1991). But it was in 1987’s Moonstruck that Jewison struck gold with this Italian-American tale of a widow (Cher) being wooed by a one-handed opera aficionado (Nicholas Cage). Cher and Olympia Dukakis took acting Oscars in addition to Best Original Screenplay while also being nominated for Picture and Director for Jewison. His last films were the HBO teleplay Dinner With Friends in 2001 and The Statement with Michael Caine in 2003.

Rooted in his native Canada, Jewison left Hollywood for London in the late 60s due to its politics and then returned to Toronto a decade later. In 1988, Jewison opened the Canadian Film Centre, a film school that helped new writers, directors, and producers get involved with establishing their careers and starting new projects for multiple production outlets. Jewison is Chair Emeritus of the CFC. Having never won a competitive Oscar, Jewison was awarded the Irving G. Thalberg Award in 1999 and later the Director’s Guild of America Lifetime Achievement Award in 2009. 

Norman Jewison’s range of work is legendary and more than daring to try serious topics while also fading back to more lighthearted movies. The quality was consistent from his days on TV in the 1950s to the 2000s upon retirement, completing a filmography equal to other legends of Hollywood. His autobiography, This Terrible Business Has Been Good to Me, tells of how he was able to work within the system, give behind-the-scenes anecdotes, and keep his creative freedom to have such a roaring success.

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review: ‘The Royal Hotel’ is a Necessary Challenge


Director: Kitty Green
Writers: Kitty Green and Oscar Redding
Stars: Julia Garner, Jessica Henwick, Hugo Weaving

Synopsis: US backpackers Hanna and Liv take a job in a remote Australian pub for some extra cash and are confronted with a bunch of unruly locals and a situation that grows rapidly out of their control.


Kitty Green’s sophomore feature directorial effort, The Royal Hotel, is not easy to watch. At first, it starts out in a rather conventional manner, as it follows Hanna (Julia Garner) and Liv (Jessica Henwick) taking a job at a bar in a highly remote place in Australia to make money. Liv’s credit card has been maxed out, and the two can’t finish their backpacking trip if they do not find employment. Arriving at The Royal Hotel, the owner, Billy (Hugo Weaving), described the job as easy enough and should theoretically be simple once they get accustomed to the tasks they must perform. 

However, it quickly becomes a nightmare, as Hanna and Liv are consistently catcalled by some of the men in the bar, including Matty (Toby Wallace), who has made some sexual advances towards Hanna, and Dolly (Daniel Henshall), who at first appears friendly but slowly starts to show his true nature to the girls. The film is inspired by Pete Gleeson’s 2016 documentary Hotel Coolgardie, chronicling two Finnish backpackers’ stint at a local hotel in Coolgardie after their credit cards were stolen in Bali. 

Gleeson’s vérité documentary is extremely disturbing. The audience gets to see firsthand the verbal abuse Steph and Lina receive from the patrons, including their boss, who consistently berates them and “jokes” about their nationality to diminish their efforts. It’s a fascinating watch at times, especially when Gleeson attempts to sew a narrative thread between the girl and the late ‘Canman,’ who acts as a protector figure for them. But the final twenty minutes or so are sickening, as Gleeson films one of the men taking advantage of Lina while on a camping trip after she had one too many drinks while the others sit and do nothing to prevent this from happening. It also raises many ethical questions on vérité filmmaking: how far are the filmmakers willing to go in capturing this story without breaking the artifice? Way too far, as the camping trip caused Lina to contract an infection, resulting in permanent eyesight loss in one eye and over 30% in the other. 

Green’s film does not show any rape but alludes to the men’s intentions through their verbal and non-verbal interactions with the protagonists. She also transposes many key sequences from the documentary into the world of fiction, making The Royal Hotel more of a character-driven thriller that isn’t afraid of challenging the audience on toxic masculinity. 

In the film, Liv seems more open-minded to the culture than Hanna and consistently gaslights her into thinking everything is fine, most notably when Billy calls her a “sweet c—t” within minutes after they arrive. Liv believes it’s just an expression they coined here, while Hanna doesn’t believe it is. This scene establishes the dynamic between the two throughout most of the film. Liv wants to be more independent in meeting new people and exploring what this town offers, but Hanna quickly wants to go home. The documentary sees both characters as equals who experience Coolgardie together and put up with the patrons’ commentary to make money, while Green’s film pits a quasi-rivalry against the two as the film progresses. 

At some point, the dynamic becomes redundant, but that’s when Green morphs the film into something far more unsettling than it initially introduced itself as. Near its midpoint, the film’s centerpiece scene involves a tense conversation between Hanna and Dolly (which Green takes massive inspiration from Lina’s conversation with Pikey in Hotel Coolgardie, though with a far less humorous tone). His behavior was already misogynist by then but becomes even more disturbing as he begins to make Grizzly sounds at her (alluding to the fact that she is Canadian, though is pretending to be one) and throw pennies on the bar floor. 

The most difficult part of the scene is watching Hanna attempting to regain control but feeling completely helpless as none of the other customers around her want to de-escalate the situation and move Dolly out of the bar. It’s as if the town has adopted these actions as normal – and acceptable – towards women and won’t do anything to protect them from harm. It’s one of the most terrifying depictions of toxic masculinity ever put on film, and the scene will stay with you long after the credits have rolled.

The Royal Hotel takes an even more brutal and unnerving turn during its final act. While most of the abuse shown before the climax is verbal, Green shows barbaric acts of physical abuse near the movie’s end. It’s not as violent as some other films that have depicted the same subjects as The Royal Hotel, but its sharp cuts by editor Kasra Rassoulzadegan and wide shots from cinematographer Michael Latham convey its excessive brutality with aplomb. Earlier scenes establish the setting and characters, but it also allows Green to slowly crank up the sense of atmospheric dread as the men become more violent toward the protagonists. 

The sound design effectively conveys such, with many scenes occurring when the bar is overflowing with patrons. You can’t hear a single discernable sound nor keep track of everything around you. You have to shout at people to get their attention, but as the men drink more beer, their violent behavior becomes more erratic. The tension is at a maximum and never diminishes, even when the cook, Carol (Ursula Yovich), attempts to regain control in the bar, while Billy drowns out his sorrows and never once takes the woman’s side. 

Julia Garner gives the best performance of her career as Hanna, especially during its latter half. I’ll admit her earlier work hasn’t been my cup of tea, but in The Royal Hotel, she delivers a far bigger breakthrough performance than the ones that put her on the map in Green’s The Assistant and Ozark. A particular shot that occurs near the end involving Garner still hasn’t left my mind, showcasing how incredibly talented she can be. Her emotional progression, just through her eyes and facial expressions, from the moment we get introduced to her to its final shot, shows a massive, top-to-bottom transformation in her psyche. She first appears reserved and terrified, and naturally so. But something clicks inside of her that gives Hanna enough power to stand up for herself once and for all. 

Henwick is also terrific as Liv but doesn’t have enough screentime for her arc to shift meaningfully, unlike Hanna, who isn’t the same person she once was as soon as they walked into that bar. Liv’s arc feels truncated, especially during its latter half, when she could’ve focused more on her before fully returning to Hanna. At 91 minutes, the film feels too long in some areas and too short in others. Plenty of cyclical scenes in the bar could’ve easily been trimmed down, while Green could’ve also helped flesh out the character relationships more because there was far more to tell with Liv. Regardless, The Royal Hotel remains a must-see, despite how difficult the watch will be for anyone sitting in front of it. Garner performs exceptionally, while Weaving and Henshall are terrifying to watch on screen. Green has never avoided discussing difficult subjects in her documentaries Ukraine is Not a Brothel and Casting JonBenet. With The Assistant and The Royal Hotel, she uses the world of fiction to craft deeply unsettling but necessary films that challenge audiences on the questions of power dynamics and toxic masculinity.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Testament’ is a Hackneyed Mess


Director: Denys Arcand
Writer: Denys Arcand
Stars: Rémy Girard, Marie-Mai, Guylaine Tremblay

Synopsis: In an era of political correctness, identity evolution, protests, cultural scandals, activism, media storms, and other disputes, an elderly man no longer having faith in humanity, discovers new landmarks and thus his happiness


Denys Arcand isn’t shy in provoking and eliciting strong reactions from the public. Whether it was through his satires The Decline of the American Empire or the Academy Award-winning The Barbarian Invasions (Arcand is still the only French Canadian filmmaker to have won an Oscar), there isn’t a single person who comes out of his films feeling indifferent, regardless if you liked it or not. But it’s been a while since he’s made something as memorable, or at least as interesting, as his Oscar-winning film. Days of Darkness pushed far too many buttons of provocation just because he thought he could, despite Marc Labrèche and Diane Kruger attempting to salvage the film, while The Fall of the American Empire is just plain bad.

Has Arcand lost his filmmaking and screenwriting touch? Or has he always been a “bitter, old, reactionary crank,” as some have recently qualified him? With his latest movie, Testament, he seems to approach the latter as he attempts to criticize our society’s alleged obsession with political correctness and fails miserably at discussing any of the themes and messages he tries to convey.

It doesn’t help that the story is too scattered for its good. The film starts with Jean-Michel Bouchard (Rémy Girard, a frequent Arcand collaborator), who has lost all will to live. He walks every day in the cemetery, longing for his hopefully peaceful demise, though he keeps himself busy by working a day or two at the archives and tending with his friends at the Parizeau-Duplessis retirement home. Herein lies the first part of his “satire,” the home is, of course, named after two of Québec’s most controversial Premiers: Jacques Parizeau and Maurice Duplessis.

In that problematically-named retirement home lies a mural that glorifies a scene of genocide against Indigenous people, with which many activists who suddenly show up at the front door take issue. This causes a massive political scandal, with the Health and Social Services Minister (Caroline Néron) urging the home’s director, Suzanne Francoeur (Sophie Lorain), to find a solution. She hires two painters (Gaston Lepage & Louis-José Houde) to remove the mural, which appeases the activists. 

However, when the Deputy Minister of Culture (played here by controversial playwright Robert Lepage, whose shows SLĀV and Kanata were both canceled after being accused of cultural appropriation) finds out that the mural has high artistic value and was painted by one of the most renowned artists in history, more scandal is created, as nationalist protestors want the mural to be shown again. Oh, and did I forget to mention there’s a subplot involving the retirement home’s library being turned into a video game center for no reason other than an excuse for Arcand to make tired jokes about old people not being able to adapt to new technologies? Yeah…

By describing the plot, we’ve already lost our central protagonist and his arc, which is about Jean-Michel slowly realizing that there is more to his life than he believes. Had the film solely focused on that introspective character’s journey, it would’ve been one of Arcand’s best because Girard gives one of his most compassionate performances. Sure, he is a consistently good actor and always gives his all with whatever character he portrays, but he always gives just a bit extra when working with Arcand. The core of The Barbarian Invasions was about Rémy’s battle with cancer, and some of the later scenes in the film are simply heartbreaking to watch. In Testament, Girard takes a far more meditative approach than he did in the Oscar winner, and the results are simply staggering.

One scene in particular, in which he quasi-confesses his love to Suzanne after she believes he’s been having an affair with Flavie (Marie-Mai, in her first non-dubbed film role), who visits him every week, is the film at its best. It’s a poignant meditation on the meaning of life and what we, as individuals, must do to reawaken our spirit and want to continue living, even if it seems pointless to go on when we’ve seemingly lost everything. Arcand tries to visually represent this through Guylaine Tremblay’s character, who begins to drink, smoke, and binge-eat fast food after her ultra-fit boyfriend dies of a stroke seconds after finishing a long bike run. There’s a bit of exaggeration in her mannerisms, but Jean-Michel’s actions, as he learns more about Suzanne and her family, convince him there is more to his life than he had thought. In my opinion, that’s the heart of Arcand’s film, and it more than succeeds.

However, he seems too busy attempting to criticize Québec’s alleged penchant for “woke” ideologies, joking about cultural appropriation, activism, the use of pronouns, gender identity, intersectional feminism, climate change, and even openly mocking several minorities under the guise of “satire.” Arcand may not be a right-wing figure, but he – and conservatives in general – fail to realize that the word “woke” means “being alert to racial prejudice and discrimination.” So, if you believe something slightly left-leaning is “woke,” it means the above definition and not what you think woke is. But that doesn’t stop Arcand from making “jokes” that are profoundly transphobic, misogynist, racist, and, above all else, unfunny. 

The only times I chuckled were during its National Assembly session parodies, where the satire of parties like the Coalition Avenir Québec and Québec Solidaire are so close to reality it becomes naturally funny. René Richard Cyr’s Culture Minister dozing off in the background seems an apt descriptor of our current legislature because we all know, deep down, that they do absolutely nothing, which Arcand cheekily points out through the provincial government’s response to COVID-19.

How is it inadmissible that a society that has grown to be more progressive over time wants to fix the errors of our past? Anything dated and or/offensive should absolutely be recontextualized or, if needed, removed, but Arcand posits this perfectly acceptable response as anti-art or anti-culture through the commentaries of his painters who are openly saddened to be erasing what they believe to be “important art,” but also through his own words. Last week, Arcand appeared on Tout le monde en parle and said “fuck off” to anyone who told him that he should’ve consulted the Indigenous community before making the film:

Arcand: I do not believe in consultations. It’s now the latest trend when we have to talk about Indigenous people or whatever. We’re always supposed to consult. I’m completely opposed to this. I think the creative process is an absolutely personal act that comes from deep within ourselves. It’s like if you asked Shakespeare if he went to Italy to ask the Capulets and Montagues if they agreed with his interpretation of Romeo & Juliet – fuck off! He’s writing a play called Romeo & Juliet. If you disagree with it, just don’t see it. Consultations are made for governments, unions, and municipalities wanting to know if closing Camilien-Houde is a good idea, for example, but not for writing fiction. 

Marc Labrèche: Did you ever say, “I should’ve not written this scene like that,” or “I should’ve opened my eyes more about something that escaped me?”

Arcand: Of course! All the time. Every day. I’d love to have more talent and skills. But I never said to myself, “Oh, I should’ve consulted!”

This declaration shows immense contempt for individuals who deserve to be properly represented on screen instead of perpetuating the same dangerous – and racist – stereotypes that have plagued moviegoers’ screens for many years. We have recently started to see Indigenous creatives being at the forefront of mainstream titles like Reservation Dogs or the upcoming Echo, but Arcand seemingly wants to continue portraying them in an offensive light instead of asking pertinent questions about how a more open and welcoming society can repair past wounds and aid in reconciliation, or involving them in the creative process. It may be a personal act, but asking them what they think of your script before it gets shot doesn’t hurt.

Testament asks all the wrong questions and perpetuates even more dangerous stereotypes passed off as “jokes” and “satire,” positioning Arcand as a bitter, old, reactionary crank instead of a serious auteur who revolutionized Québec cinema with his American Empire series. Even his exploitation film Gina has a hidden political subtext that goes far deeper in its messaging than it has any right to, especially compared to his hackneyed Testament. Who knows if the title itself means this will be Arcand’s last film, but if it does, he’s leaving us with quite the whimper that could make some viewers rethink his past films as products of their time instead of some of Québec cinema’s greatest treasures.

Grade: D+

Interview: Tanner Beard of the Mammoth Film Festival

Multi-hyphenate Tanner Beard is best known for his work as a prolific producer of independent films but he has also distinguished himself in other professional fields. He co-founded the Mammoth Film Festival in 2018 and recently served as a voice actor in Andreas Deja’s Mushka (2023). As the festival rapidly expands in scope and ambition, it has begun to gain increased prominence on the independent film circuit. Beard is passionate about bringing small-scale productions to a wider audience and believes that film festivals play a valuable role in elevating the profile of obscure indie movies. 

Zita Short had the opportunity to sit down with Beard and discuss recent developments in his career. 

Zita Short: What led you to get involved with the production of Mushka?

Tanner Beard: I was lucky, I guess. I was shooting a movie with the director of photography, who happened to be one of the producers of Mushka. He invited me to work on the film. It was a lucky chain reaction. 

ZS You recently received the Tim Burton “Native Burbank” Visionary Award, what do these sorts of accolades mean to those working in the entertainment industry?

TB: The Tim Burton award was definitely one that I ended up calling some people about. It’s pretty cool. I appreciate it whenever a movie that my production company has put out gets an accolade of any kind. You’re really proud of it because you can kind of place it in your house or in your garage. So winning the Tim Burton award was one for the books for me personally. I would be completely lying if I said that wasn’t awesome. 

To go back to Mushka, it was kind of a blast to work with the legends of the industry. The director, Andreas Deja, worked on Disney movies that I saw growing up. I never thought I’d get to work with somebody like that. To add my voice to his piece of art was an amazing honor. 

ZS: Is it easier to become an interdisciplinary artist in the modern world?

TB: It’s a good question. I don’t know if it ever gets easier. However, you do get to go into each new project with more experience under your belt. That means that there’s a different way to attack each project. Still, it’s never easy. It’s always hard to make a good one. Then again, it’s more fun when you know what you’re doing. You don’t have to worry about making the same mistakes twice. That can make it more fun to do. It’s always hard. You can make thirty-five movies and on your thirty-sixth still have no idea what you’re doing. I like so many different elements of the film industry. It may seem like I try to put my finger in every single pie. That’s only because I enjoy it. I like to produce, I like to edit, I like to act, I like to help produce the outcome of a movie. Sometimes you only get to serve a limited number of roles on the set of a film. Serving in all of those capacities is an honor. I’m also egotistical (laughs). 

ZS: What challenges are involved in founding a film festival in the streaming era?

TB: The number one thing for us is taking care of the films that are still playing in competition. We have a lot of films making their world premiere and they might be bought and sold at this festival. It can be quite a lot of fun to see the growth and become a part of that charitable camaraderie. We’re a 501-C3, so we’re a non-profit organization doing this. We have to turn a profit in order to keep the festival going. In terms of the difficulty level, I definitely have to keep an eye on the employees and make sure they’re not overloaded with work. Organizing this festival, when you’ve got so many films on your hands, can be a real challenge. We chose Mammoth Lakes, California as the destination for the festival and that’s a big draw. It’s really the source of the festival’s allure. We like to have a lot of like-minded individuals come out and celebrate how hard it is to make movies. It’s a tremendous amount of fun and it’s really becoming something. 

ZS: Why do you think that short films struggle to find an audience outside of the film festival circuit and what can be done to remedy this problem?

TB: I don’t know if the problem will ever be remedied. People might learn to just start watching shorts. I think shorts are a beautiful way to tell a story that is only owed a certain amount of time or to experiment with seeing if it’s owed more time. It’s a great way to have something tangible that does have a short shelf life when we think of the festival circuit. Sometimes short films move beyond that setting. Some people do like to watch shorts. You can get on YouTube and see all sorts of shorts that are amazing. I’ve watched some that way. Then you have something like Amazon, where they group a bunch of different shorts together under different classifications. 

I like to make rough drafts before producing final versions of anything. That’s just how I grew up. I like shorts, on a personal level, and I appreciate the fact that they provide directors with the chance to tell a short-form story. When you look at something like Black Mirror, you see how effective short-form, one-off storytelling can be. Maybe it’s not a short in your mind but an episode of something. I think short films are important for the growth of the industry. It can provide artists with a smaller reward for the risks that they take but there’s still risk in it. It still costs money to make a short film. Film festivals cost money to go to. 

Still, making a short helps you to understand the field that you’re competing in. You can’t get any information back if you don’t put anything out there. Sometimes making a short is a great entryway in the industry. I’m an advocate for them. We show shorts at the Mammoth Film Festival and we have some good ones. It’s always a heated competition. 

ZS: Would you describe yourself as a hands-on producer?

TB: When you call somebody a producer, you should think of an entire soccer team. Each player has a job that they need to do. They’re all producers or players on the team; you have your forward, your guard, your goalie. That’s how I feel about producing sometimes. On occasion, you are the goalie. Other times, you’re the coach’s assistant. That’s just how it is in this profession. I like to be way more hands-on because I grew up making my own movies. I’m not afraid of doing the work and being down in the trenches. Other times, it’s the satisfaction that comes with having done something. You connect the dots that can only be witnessed if you’re looking at a project from the outside. 

You can really benefit a film if you know how the members of the production crew work. Just getting from A-Z can be a big part of producing or executive production (which is a whole lot easier, sometimes). It can be tough when you’re on a set and you have to inform people that it’s been raining for three days in a row and you have to move everything from outside to inside. With that kind of producing, you have to be quick on your feet. Even if it’s the wrong answer, you have to commit to it in order to avoid losing your crew. It varies. That’s why you have so many people who tell you that they’re a producer. It’s hard to figure out what they mean sometimes. I’m a part of that crew. You just never know. There’s no movie that’s the same. 

ZS: Do you have any amusing anecdotes from your time in the industry?

TB: If something doesn’t go wrong, it’s almost like you can’t trust it. With the Mammoth Film Festival, we’ve definitely dealt with some blizzards out there. At the end of the day, it actually enhanced the experience instead of ending the festival. When working on movies, you get really concerned about rain. Sometimes you need it not to rain on a specific day and it inevitably ends up not going your way. That’s why so many people don’t know what a producer does on set. They have to solve so many problems in order to ensure a positive outcome for the movie. You generally find that it’s all a blur and you don’t really remember what you produced. When people ask you what a producer is, you end up telling them about flat tires and actors who don’t show up on time. Sometimes you can really impress them by telling them that you got McConaughey to do a movie. You just never know what kind of job you’re getting yourself into. Being in the field is a lot more noble, as the profession goes. Being amongst other producers is fun. 

ZS: What are your plans for the future of the Mammoth Film Festival?

TB: The town of Mammoth itself is experiencing a tremendous amount of growth. We’re seeing more and more hotels springing up. More people are learning about the festival, the competition is growing, the sales are increasing, the marketplace is continuously growing. As long as we can keep getting movies bought and sold there, as well as getting an agent or meeting other talented people in the industry, it represents growth. We love movies so much. There are agents who are willing to work anywhere and there are agents who count The Goonies (1985) as their favorite movie. You want to bring all those people together and let them grow and seed. When we see movies that premiered at Mammoth on airplanes, we know that we’re really doing something cool. You feel like you’re seeing your little boy up there. It’s kind of funny but our main thing is just to keep growing. 

ZS: Do you find yourself actively seeking out opportunities to work on a diverse range of projects?

TB: I was talking to a buddy of mine recently and we were reflecting on the fact that there aren’t many genres that we haven’t tackled. We were talking about how funny it was that I, as a kid from West Texas, was able to go to Bangladesh and work on a film production. How did I end up in that position? It’s what’s lovely about this business. It teaches you so much about things that you never thought you would have had an interest in. I hope I get to tackle every movie genre once. I do like Westerns and I’ve never had the chance to make one. Hopefully I’ll get around to that someday. 

ZS: What are your thoughts on the WGA and SAG strikes that have taken place in 2023?

TB: I’m obviously not in the mix and I don’t know what’s happening in the big meetings. You have to sit back, wait and provide support. I’m still kind of waiting to see what happens. We’re hearing good news. It’s also complicated because, as guild members, we have a different set of guidelines to act under. I definitely support my unions and we’re all out there battling for the little guys. I’m an indie film guy so I support anything that helps independent film productions get off the ground. I don’t work on big productions, not that I wouldn’t ever want to, but right now I’m all about indies and festivals. 

Movie Review: The Wes Anderson Shorts on Netflix are Superiorly Crafted Fables


Director: Wes Anderson
Writers: Wes Anderson (based on stories by Roald Dahl)
Stars: Benedict Cumberbatch, Ralph Fiennes, Dev Patel

Synopsis:

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar: Chronicles a variety of stories, but the main one follows Henry Sugar, who is able to see through objects and predict the future with the help of a book he stole.

The Swan: A small brilliant boy is tormented by two large idiotic bullies.

The Rat Catcher: In an English village, a reporter and a mechanic listen to a rat catcher explain his clever plan to outwit his prey.

Poison: When a poisonous snake slithers onto an Englishman’s stomach in India, his associate and a doctor race to save him.


Several prominent directors or directing teams have taken on anthology films or film series. Most notable, of course, are the Coen Brothers’ Western anthology The Ballad of Buster Scruggs and Steve McQueen’s epic series Small Axe. Some anthologies like the Cities of Love project or the V/H/S films knit short films by multiple filmmakers together around a theme. Wes Anderson and his partners at Netflix have chosen to keep this set of films, all based on Roald Dahl short stories, as four separate shorts. Though they are complete films that can be viewed in any order, these films compliment each other and have a great deal in common in how they’re shot and work thematically. (This reviewer chose to watch them in this order: The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, The Swan, The Rat Catcher, and Poison.)

Wes Anderson has been inching toward near complete artifice in his films for a long time. Often they look like they take place not in the real world, but on intricate sets. With these four shorts, Anderson takes that artifice to a new level. Anderson and his brilliant production designer Adam Stockhausen have built incredible sets that are intricately detailed and move with the action. Often, the actor speaking stands still as the location around him, which can be said for all characters because there are no women in these films, moves, thus creating no need for a cut in editing to a new location. One of the standouts is the ever changing background behind the titular Henry Sugar in The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, as the background lifts and moves him from room to room without Henry moving much of a muscle.

All four films, shot by director of photography Robert Yeoman, rely heavily on stationary, but no less exciting, action. Yeoman’s camera packs the scenes with deep backgrounds and incredible close ups. Some of the most intricate moves of Yeoman’s camera are the overhead shots and movements of characters in Poison. He slides through walls and among the rafters to make a film about a man trapped in bed feel dynamic.

The films all feel like they have very long scenes or like they were shot in long takes, but that is the mastery of editors Adam Weisblum and Barney Pilling. The two of them have impeccable timing moving from a wide to a close up and from character to character. It’s never more impressive than in The Rat Catcher, the action of which takes place nearly in only one space in front of a newspaper office and garage as a reporter and mechanic speak with the titular rat catcher. The subtle shifts in perspective and point of view are captured with a beautiful fluidity by Weisblum and Pilling.

All that said, the shorts are each exhausting in a way. Because of the way Anderson chose to adapt the stories with narration of the dialogue and plot in full, there is nothing but wall to wall dialogue for 17 or so minutes. 40 minutes in the case of The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. It’s quite daunting. The actors speak so quickly and the scenes move so fast that there’s almost a whiplash in the viewer’s brain as they try to keep up. 

Each of the shorts also engages in a theater of the mind aspect that, while interesting from the idea that the audience could supply their own images, is a little silly to see actors pretending to hold things in their hands. The most strange example of this is when the titular rat catcher explains how he is going to kill the rats with a tin of poisoned oats, but actor Ralph Fiennes holds nothing in his hands, just has them in the shape of a tin.

It often does feel like you can lose focus watching the films because of the constant narration. Even as aspects of the story play out as the actors speak, the mind creates its own images on top of the images on screen. It’s enough to make one zone out and have to catch themselves up on the action on screen while attempting to disregard the action in their heads. It would be as if puppeteers stared at the audience continually as they manipulated their tools and spoke the voices and gave narration. There’s too much for the brain to focus entirely. It can make you miss something important in the background as our eyes are being drawn to the speaker, constantly in the foreground.

The stories themselves are fascinating, though. It’s clear that Roald Dahl has been a great influence on Wes Anderson. The stories, like Anderson’s films, have a whimsy to them that mask a darkness underneath that crawls under a person’s skin. The most nerve wracking and gut wrenching of the shorts coming out of this dark sandbox is The Swan. The unnerving escalation of the two older teens bullying and doing great harm to Peter Watson is disturbing. It makes the viewer thankful that Anderson didn’t choose a more overtly dramatized version for this film as seeing a child in this kind of peril would have been truly horrifying. It’s the short that will haunt you the most, but also has the most to say.

Taken together, these four shorts are funny, exciting, beautifully crafted and deftly acted by an incredible troupe. Though they can be a bit much all in a row. Take them in individually. Savor the terrific performance of Benedict Cumberbatch in The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar. Appreciate the intricate minimalism of the sets of The Swan. Marvel at the deft editing of The Rat Catcher. Be awed by the incredible camerawork of Poison. These four shorts are a welcome addition to the Anderson canon and an obvious labor of love by all involved.

Grade: B

Movie Review (NYFF 2023): ‘The Settlers’ is a Necessary History


Director: Felipe Gálvez Haberle
Writers: Antonia Girardi, Felipe Gálvez Haberle, and Mariano Llinás
Stars: Mark Stanley, Sam Spruell, Alfredo Castro

Synopsis: A mixed-race Chilean, rides south on an expedition led by MacLenan, a former Boer War English captain and Bill, an American mercenary, to fence off land granted to Spanish landowner José Menéndez.


It’s not a stretch to say that the relevance of the Western film genre has diminished greatly since its height. While certain tropes and stylistic choices appear all over as inspired remnants in contemporary film, there are very few true Westerns being made today. Enter Felipe Gálvez Haberle’s The Settlers, an impressive narrative feature debut which threads the needle between genre takedown and ode. Importantly, Gálves Haberle addresses an essential fact: Western films were, inherently, propagandistic by nature. In Hollywood’s mission to sanitize the history of America, the cowboy became a mythical figure. The Old West, through the likes of John Ford, Sam Peckinpah, Clint Eastwood, and more; became an idealized time period. The Settlers is able to recognize some inherent beauties found during the time of the cowboy, but never fails to highlight the ugly evil that lurked in the shadows of icons like The Lone Ranger or The Man With No Name.

 Opening in 1907, the film takes place across the vast, mostly empty landscape of Chile. We are introduced to José Menéndez (Alfredo Castro) and his slew of overworked employees. While he is known throughout history as a massive landowner in Chile, the film introduces him in another manner. Harsh, bold letters appear across the entire screen to reveal his moniker: The God of White Gold. The whole film is broken up into mythically-named chapters, and likewise treats character introductions in a similar manner. While its impact may not be understood at first, Gálves Haberle is cleverly using these moments to imprint the idea of myth-making onto the audience. If we build up these people and this time period as larger than life, surely the acts we witness will feel all the more impactful. Menéndez enlists the aid of Alexander MacLennan (Mark Stanley), a British lieutenant he has hired to clear a path to the Atlantic Ocean for his sheep to safely be sold. Along the journey, he is forced to bring Bill (Benjamín Westfall), a caricature of a Texas cowboy, and Segundo (Camilo Arancibia), a half-Mapuche, half-Spanish scout forced to work by Menéndez. This slow burn of a film actually sets the stage for the remainder of its runtime rather quickly. That being said, the film might have benefitted from a bit more table setting as far as familiarizing its audience with the historical context in which the film takes place.

As the film plays on though, it’s clear Gálves Haberle is less interested in a direct depiction of history, and more in highlighting how countless atrocities during that time have been swept under the rug. While discussing the film’s setting and events, he made it known that they are “not part of the official version of the history of Chile… they are not included in the school curriculum either.” On the surface, The Settlers is a stark and upsetting depiction of the cruel violence of colonization. The events of this film make way for something far more frightening, however. There’s a jump through time in the final act of the film. The audience is ripped away from wide open land and brought into the seemingly haunted home of Menéndez himself. We are introduced to Vicuña (Marcelo Alonso), an envoy of the Chilean president. Confronting Menéndez for the atrocities he committed in the name of expansion, one might expect to see some form of retribution. But alas, this is a film that doesn’t shy away from real-world horror. Gálvez Haberle made a point to note that the villains of this film still have streets, parks, and rivers named after them. Instead, the two discuss how to “address” a deeply flawed history without destroying a sense of nationalism among the people of Chile. In other words, the two are looking to save the power they have amassed by being cold, heartless men. Vicuña makes his thoughts abundantly clear, even when speaking in metaphors: “Wool stained with blood loses all value.”

 The first 80 minutes of the film are framed through the lens of Segundo. Serving mainly as a witness to these horrors, he rarely speaks to the two bigots he has been forced to accompany. At most, he has five lines of dialogue for the majority of the film. But Arancibia’s near dialogue-free performance is utterly felt. With eyes that could stare directly through a soul, the anger and fear clash up against one another as he is eventually forced to partake in this evil. It’s only in the final moments of the film when he’s at his most vocal. Smartly, Gálvez Haberle frames the final 20 minutes of the film in a totally different manner. While it’s the most we hear Segundo speak, he loses all his agency in the presence of those who visit his humble abode. The entire film is framed through Segundo’s viewpoint, yet he is treated with nothing but racism and belittlement by nearly every character in the film. It’s a startling way to treat your lead character, but it’s a damningly effective portrayal of a history that has been washed away through ignorance. The Settlers takes a bold, often overtly-violent approach to tackling an essential subject, but when addressing a history that has been pushed aside for so long, a statement such as Gálvez Haberle’s film is necessary.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Priscilla’ is a Work of Art


Director: Sofia Coppola
Writers: Sofia Coppola, Sandra Harmon, and Priscilla Presley
Stars: Cailee Spaeny, Jacob Elordi, Ari Cohen

Synopsis: When teenage Priscilla Beaulieu meets Elvis Presley, the man who is already a meteoric rock-and-roll superstar becomes someone entirely unexpected in private moments: a thrilling crush, an ally in loneliness, a vulnerable best friend.


There’s a line Aaron Sorkin once wrote years ago that immediately popped into my head while watching Sofia Coppola’s minimalist biography of Priscilla Presley. Coppola evokes a sense of innocence (and purity lost) from a simpler time that was anything but wholesome. Priscilla is that anti-Baz Luhrmann Elvis movie. One that strips away the lore, the razzle-dazzle, and exposes what Sorkin was talking about when he wrote, “The things we do to women.”

What’s wrong with the way these two met and fell in love? Priscilla (Cailee Spaeny) was only 14 years old then, and Elvis (Jacob Elordi) was 24 while stationed in Germany. The teenager, who wasn’t old enough to drive, smoke, or have a drink, was approached by one of Elvis’s buddies at a local diner. This buddy had no business taking a pubescent teen to party on that German Army base. The excuse is that Elvis liked to talk to people from home because he was homesick. As if, somehow, that made everything okay.

That’s the start of Priscilla, based on the nonfiction book Elvis and Me by Priscilla Presley and Sandra Harmon. The other patrons at the party hardly batted an eye when the King of Rock and Roll invited the teenager to his room, where they would meet in a few minutes. Like any man of power, his entourage never said anything because they wanted to be part of it all. Elvis was always surrounded by his buddies, no matter the situation or intimate occasion.

Like most celebrities, Elvis was insecure and the film captures the insecurities of the rich and famous. Coppola’s adaptation subtly highlights these themes that led to Elvis practically using Priscilla for multiple purposes that never took her feelings and needs into account, but only his own. In the film, Coppola draws a powerful comparison. When Elvis is granted permission from Priscilla’s father to stay in Graceland with him, he goes on the road and leaves her an adorable poodle to keep her company.

The white pup has its small fenced-off area, its own Graceland. When Elvis returns, you see the similarities. Elvis is using Priscilla as his companion. She cannot bring home friends from school. Priscilla has to stay at home and cannot get a part-time job or talk to any office assistants working in the house. Elvis even dresses her, tells her how to wear her hair and makeup, and changes her hair color, making a teenage girl look like she’s trying to seem older than her age.

Coppola’s Priscilla is a beautiful prison of lonely isolation. This is never more apparent than when we see Spaeny’s stoic and soulful gaze out of the window, framed by some white windowsills and the blue wildflowers of Tennessee swaying slowly in the wind. The performances bring the long courtship and marriage to a terrible light. Elordi is very good here, displaying a spot-on accent and playful, disarming charm, but he can also be ignorantly controlling and abusive without warning, with a quick-trigger temper.

The extraordinarily tall actor has Elvis use his tremendous size to impose fear, towering over Priscilla. Then there’s the emotional abuse, threatening to send his wife away or leave her, using her tears as validation (and in another incredible scene where Priscilla calls his bluff; he crumbles in fear she will leave him forever). Even the use of pregnancy is another way to keep Priscilla in the home, preventing her from having the power of free will or choosing to have a life of her own.

Then you have Spaeny, who gives a thoughtful performance. The Devs and Mare of Easttown star won the Volpi Cup for Best Actress at the Venice Film Festival, and her performance is extraordinarily instinctual here, displaying realism when someone suffers in silence despite the trappings of wealth around them. Spaeny conveys complex emotions and situations with subtlety and nuance well beyond her years. When you leave the theater, you’ll know this is one of the year’s standout performances.

There are times when Priscilla lacks energy, and it is a film that will be hard to embrace for mainstream audiences (especially anyone looking for a companion piece to last year’s Elvis). Yet, that’s beside the point. Coppola’s film is a work of art and has much to say about why we reached the tipping point of the fourth wave of feminism in the past decade.

It’s the things we do to women.

Grade: A

Movie Review (NYFF 2023): ‘Maestro’ is Pure Oscar Bait


Director: Bradley Cooper
Writers: Bradley Cooper and Josh Singer
Stars: Bradley Cooper, Carey Mulligan, Matt Bomer

Synopsis: This love story chronicles the lifelong relationship of conductor-composer Leonard Bernstein and Felicia Montealegre Cohn Bernstein.


Even though Maestro contains an array of dynamic set pieces that serve as visual cinematic eye candy, Bradley Cooper’s biopic about one of the greatest composers to ever walk to the Earth, Leonard Bernstein, ends up being prosaic due to the focus on showcasing the actor-turned-filmmaker’s talents on and off the screen instead of that of its subject. 

Last year, Cate Blanchett’s Lydia Tár, the fictional lead character from Todd Field’s masterpiece named after the conductor herself, said many things, some of which had reason (mainly relating to artistry) and others paved the way for her downfall. One of the first things you hear her say and details you know about her during the interview she has with Adam Gopnik from the New Yorker is her love and admiration for two of the most recognizable and acclaimed composers of all time, Leonard Bernstein and Gustav Mahler – the two shapeshifting the landscape of classical music as a whole at different points in time. She recalls the maneuvers filled with elegance and poise, with the addition of a rebel-like vision and effervescent charisma needed to reconstruct some of those beloved pieces from the Austro-Bohemian Romantic composer. 

Although fictional, Tár’s words are inspired by those who have lauded these maestros’ works. Like Tár, Bernstein had an obsession with Mahler, to the point where he played plenty of his symphonies throughout the 1960s and 80s. All of this is explained in full detail, as well as the other aspects of his complex and legendary life, in the 2021 documentary Bernstein’s Wall by Douglas Tirola. However, we have never seen a feature film depicting or inspired by his life throughout the different stages of his career. We have witnessed biopics about Mahler’s trajectory and relationship with his wife Alma via Ken Russell’s film back in 1974. But what about Bernstein? – as Lydia Tár would have yelled. Well, actor and filmmaker Bradley Cooper is up for the task with a film called Maestro, the title given out of respect to an accomplished musician with enormous talent. 

From the title alone, Cooper is already giving out flowers to the conductor. Maestro begins with Leonard Bernstein (Bradley Cooper) being interviewed while sitting at one of his most prized possessions, the piano. In a song by British recording artist Sampha, he sings about nobody knowing him like the piano; that may also be true for Bernstein, but there’s someone who does so to another level, one that transcends his artistry and masterfulness, Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan). He’s playing some somber pieces, one of which is inspired by his late wife. Bernstein loved her very much, telling the camera crew that he misses her – Felicia’s presence is still lingering in these now haunted walls where he resides and the gardens accompanying it. 

This first glance at an old, but not completely broken, Bernstein offers the viewer what would be the core of the story Cooper wants to tell – the love he has for both the craft and his wife, more so the latter. There’s some poignancy in these initial frames captured by cinematographer Matthew Lebatique’s eye with such ease and elegance, albeit it is missing the daring nature present in his work with Daren Aronofsky. After this scene, we travel back in time, where color switches to monochrome in a stylistic exercise by Cooper that’s just for flash rather than a storytelling mechanism. We see the moment when Bernstein meets the love of his life at a party, just moments after conducting with the New York Philharmonic. Immediately, you sense a connection between the two, which is elevated by the lead pair’s chemistry and talent. 

Their personalities match with one another, even with Bernstein’s complex persona. The two have a high level of confidence and liveliness, amongst other similar qualities, that attracted them to one another. They will end up together for years to come. But these moments that lit their spark are featured to make the audience understand the reason why this film is seen through her lens. There are plenty of sequences in whichthis is shown: a woman who stands beside her love through thick and thin, as well as through fame and artistry. This induces instances where she must live in the shadow of her husband’s grandiose stature. At the center of it all, there’s the stage – the theater or podium. This setting or object that’s at the center of the spotlight shows us the ups and downs of this relationship, full of tides. 

A playfulness within the scene-to-scene transitions helps map out how they stand in union – the roles they play in each other’s lives. They both love the arts, but even more so, they love one another. We have seen similar relationships depicted on the big screen in ways that there’s space for a fully-fledged exploration of both players. However, what the actor-turned-filmmaker does with Maestro is dwelling in the classic and predictable biopic structure that makes its presentation lackluster and its ideas surface-level. There are a couple of reasons why the film falls flat. But the reason I would like to point out is the film’s mundane emotional resonance – the crux of Maestro and the key to Bernstein’s passion for the craft, the love he has for his wife. 

Of course, Cooper and Mulligan are great performers. (Mulligan cast as a Latina woman, alongside her accent and lines about her homeland – both of which are pretty abasing, was weird to understand the reasonings for it.) And they do some intriguing work here that doesn’t rank amongst their best but does show us some new abilities they might have been keeping secret. However, the complexity of the main character’s relationship is not explored in a way that I would find personally engaging due to the creaky screenplay that Cooper and Josh Singer (Spotlight, First Man) have concocted. The film does have scenes that, on paper, seem complex, as Leonard and Felicia have some confrontations and discussions about several topics. But the words encrypted in the script don’t match the passion and sheer emotion that the actors contain within their portrayals. You end up feeling that this is more of a showcase for Cooper’s growth as a director and actor.

He experiments with many techniques to see if he can nail them (and in most cases, he does so) instead of focusing on its subject – the main reason why people are anticipating this picture. You see how Cooper embodies the late great maestro with such panache as if he has transformed into another being. While I still prefer his work on his adaptation of A Star is Born, which I also deem as underwhelming, I truly appreciate how he can get into character so efficiently. He lets the music puppeteer into his every act and does vice versa as he conducts. And, in a sense, that’s also part of the problem. Cooper operates under a guise that he is forcing onto himself rather than acting naturally. While occasionally stilted, he makes the better of it, even if it doesn’t feel technically real – veering into a version of Bernstein that’s not true-to-life but embraces the fanciful. 

It helps him veer into interesting territories, storytelling and performance-wise. Yet, I don’t believe it is enough to shake off the feeling that there’s plenty missing from the film. Most of those aspects that Maestro lacks keep it at a distance on a thematic and psychological level. Bradley Cooper’s sophomore feature ends up being unimpressive and uninspired, unlike the talents of the conductor being portrayed by this film’s director. The few lines that Lydia Tár dedicated to honor her admiration for the maestro are of more worth than Cooper’s two-hour Oscar bait tour-de-narcissism. 

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘Paw Patrol: The Mighty Movie is Perfect for Tiny Viewers


Director: Cal Brunker
Writers: Cal Brunker and Bob Barlen
Stars: McKenna Grace, Taraji P. Henson, Marsai Martin

Synopsis: A magical meteor crash lands in Adventure City and gives the PAW Patrol pups superpowers, transforming them into The Mighty Pups


Whether you wanted one or not, a sequel to PAW Patrol: The Movie is here in PAW Patrol: The Mighty Movie. Reviewing a movie like this is always daunting, as its target audience isn’t adult moviegoers but small children. However, children can’t roam free on their own in the theater. Their parents are quasi-forced to sit through the film and enjoy (or endure) what’s in front of them while their kids are distracted by the colors and bright animation on the screen. Most animated movies these days are indeed distractions. Small children will enjoy how pretty it looks, but those looking for a deeper message or at least something to grasp won’t get much out of them. PAW Patrol: The Mighty Movie is no different. However, it is far superior to the first movie. 

Part of the reason why it’s a better movie has to do with the fact that the PAW Patrol become full-fledged superheroes, with a meteor carrying magical crystals giving each respective member of the crew superpowers: Skye (Mckenna Grace), for example, can fly, while Chase (Christian Convery) can travel at super-speed. It plucks powers from the Justice League and Fantastic Four. It wraps them into the Mighty Pups, where the team now has to go after Victoria Vance (Taraji P. Henson), who wants to steal the crystal for her gain, and Mayor Humdinger (Ron Pardo), who returns from the first film to exact his revenge on the PAW Patrol.

As you can see, the plot is not very sophisticated, and one doesn’t expect it to be with a film titled PAW Patrol. But the film contains more than enough compellingly crafted action sequences to at least mildly entertain adults and blow away small children’s minds. One kid sitting in front of me was at his first movie and couldn’t believe the scenes where Skye could destroy meteors with the power of flight or when Chase dodged Vance’s electroshocks in bullet-time fashion. Did I expect to see visual references from The Matrix in a PAW Patrol movie? Absolutely not. Nor did I see an Olivia Rodrigo needle drop coming within one of the first action sequences that reintroduce audiences to the world – and team – that comprise the PAW Patrol.

These elements make the film  surprisingly off-kilter, with enough direct references to appease adults. At the same time, kids get their first exposure to what the power of cinema can achieve. Of course, the story isn’t at all developed convincingly. There are too many plot holes to explain exactly what Vance wants to do with the crystals or how they work. How can the crystals magically bind to the pups and somehow give them powers? And how are they suddenly able to hone them instantly? In superhero origin stories, it takes weeks, if not months (and sometimes two movies), for a hero to finally understand their place in the world and master their powers.

In PAW Patrol: The Mighty Movie, it takes five seconds. Skye realizes she can fly, and we’re supposed to buy into the fact that she’s now the film’s Supergirl (the cape during the climax was a nice touch). They do, however, play around with the concept of how the powers work through Liberty (Marsai Martin), who has a hard time figuring out what her powers are, until they magically appear during the climax, in a moment everyone, except the kids (who yelled out WHOAAAAA) saw coming.

The animation is also nicely done. It’s not as detailed as Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, but that feels like an apples-and-oranges situation. We can’t compare the two because they don’t appeal to the same audience. PAW Patrol’s animation is more towards small children, with strong sequences of action that are never too violent nor too edgy but with the right amount of kinetics to engage the smallest possible viewer. I was even surprised when the meteorite blew up the Patrol’s tower, though it was a light thrill.

The animation work is primarily aimed at small children, in which characters feel like cartoons and the world doesn’t only feel lived in and grounded in reality but with enough fantastical elements to blow the small kids away. However, that doesn’t prevent Mikros Animation from crafting some truly incredible textures on the titular pups and playing with light and color to enhance the action sequences on screen.

As a result, PAW Patrol: The Mighty Movie is completely inoffensive. No, it won’t change cinema. Yes, it’ll be forgotten in a day for adult viewers who went to see it with their kids, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is whether or not the smallest viewer will have the time of their lives. I can confidently say they absolutely will, and that’s the only thing in the world worth caring about with a movie like this. Take your kids and watch them have an incredible time on the silver screen. They may get hooked for life.

Grade: B-

Series Review: ‘Loki: Season 2’ Provides the Unexpected


Director: Justin Benson, Aaron Moorhead, Michael Waldron
Writers: Eric Martin, Michael Waldron
Stars: Tom Hiddleston, Owen Wilson, Gugu Mbatha-Raw

Synopsis: The mercurial villain Loki resumes his role as the God of Mischief in a new series that takes place after the events of “Avengers: Endgame.”


Loki had a magnificent freshman season. Their sophomore effort confirms the show is the best Marvel series, by far. While the first season was soaked in its well-regarded, irreverent mischievousness, the second season abandons some of that dark playfulness for deeper, richer themes. The filmmakers behind the shape-shifting trickster, easy to love but hard to embrace, have found that sweet spot where Loki has begun to see his soul and redemption arc brought out by his new partner while his nefarious nature is always near the surface.

The sophomore season of Loki (Tom Hiddleston) starts with the titular character jumping through different variant timelines after Sylvie (Sophia Di Martino) kills Victor Timely, AKA the notorious He Who Remains (Jonathan Majors) in last year’s finale. His death caused a splintering of variant timelines, creating major internal problems for the bureaucratic organization known as the Time Variance Authority (TVA). Not only are lines drawn and sides chosen, but Sylvie’s actions have caused a branching off of thousands of timelines, something the organization is meant to stop and protect the one true sacred timeline.

This was all part of He Who Remains’ plan, as the Multiversal War caused him to create the Sacred Timeline and the TVA to protect it. However, we discovered that everyone is a variant, even the leading players like Loki’s new BFF, Mobius (Owen Wilson), Hunter B-15 (Wunmi Mosaku), and even Ravonna Renslayer (Gugu Mbatha-Raw). Heck, it seems like Miss Minutes (voiced by Tara Strong), the He Who Remains AI creation, is the only original, even though she’s been through various updates over the years.

That sets up the story. While two different factions debate the merits of keeping or eliminating timelines, Loki and Mobius are set to chase down Sylvie, Ravonna, and Miss Minutes to protect everyone, not just themselves. This sets the impressively darker tone and more decadent themes in Loki’s second season as they debate faith, control, and, above all else, the value of human life, no matter the variant.

What I admire about the second season of Loki is that creator Michael Waldron doesn’t get bogged down in the trappings of the season finale; he cuts the cord immediately. Waldron could have spent the entire season trying to bring Loki back to the Sacred Timeline but wisely cuts to the chase in the first episode, having Loki jump back into the original future quickly. Otherwise, you’d have abandoned what made the first season enjoyable—the buddy chemistry between Hiddleston and Wilson.

What makes this season so interesting is that Marvel embraces Loki’s antihero character, which sets up the plot and slowly transforms his character into something gradual, heartfelt, and empathetic. For instance, Sylvie saw timelines as a source of control for uncaring and cold government officials last season, while Loki understood there was a greater good. That’s where Waldron and company begin to fold into those themes we talked about above, something that the film The Creator played with last month (and even The Matrix), like freedom of choice versus conformity, individualism versus collectivism, existentialism, and most importantly, morality.

The cast is near pitch-perfect, with the addition of Ke Huy Quan, who plays the author of the TVA manual, O.B., who consistently delights by bringing a positive energy to the series’ darkest scenes. Then you have Blindspotting’s Rafael Casal, who plays agent X-5, who questions the TVA’s actions and finds solace in the life that was taken from him (think Joe Pantoliano’s Cypher in The Matrix), like being the star of a 70s star of a shlock horror film. 

And, of course, we need to address the elephant in the room: Jonathan Majors’s role not being cut in Loki reportedly because filming had already wrapped well after the abuse allegations surfaced. (Producer Kevin Wright was also quoted saying Majors won’t be recast because he was hesitant to do so without knowing how the case would play out.) I know the late Roger Ebert made a famous point to his partner Gene Siskel about being able to separate them two decades ago. Still, you can’t watch Loki with Majors in the scene without the alleged issues of domestic violence popping into your head. Still, Majors is a gifted talent, and his turn as Victor Timely is very good here, showing some of the innocence of Timely before the change of personas. 

However, if you can get past the real-life issues of Majors, the show is great fun with its combination of mind-blowing storytelling and disarming charm from the cast. The series is a creative burst of fresh air, embracing the famous comic’s limitless storytelling and using the plot of branching timelines to keep viewers on the edge of their seats.

Frankly, Loki uses the multiverse storyline better than most of Marvel’s famed filmography. With multiple jaw-dropping moments that keep you guessing and knowing the unexpected can be coming at every turn, that’s a rarity in television, where networks and streaming services want to do nothing else but follow the episodic rule book step by step. Loki is more morally complex, engaging, even divisive, and suspenseful than anything Marvel has done in recent years.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Saw X’ Revives a Stale Series


Director: Kevin Gruetert
Writers: Pete Goldfinger and Josh Stolberg
Stars: Tobin Bell, Shawnee Smith

Synopsis: A sick and desperate John travels to Mexico for a risky and experimental medical procedure in hopes of a miracle cure for his cancer only to discover the entire operation is a scam to defraud the most vulnerable


When Saw opened up at the 2004 Sundance Film Festival it took the world by storm, the buzz coming from this mysteriously original horror film echoed all the way to even my 7th grade class room and this was before the internet that we know today. When it hit theaters that Halloween season it was a mega hit with the ultimate mouth to the floor reaction that hadn’t been seen since 1996’s Scream, and as we know in Hollywood, what works once must work again and again and again and just when you think it cannot work again; it barely does and then takes a breath. 

From 2004-2010 we got a new installment into the Saw series with seven straight films, each film opening in first place until the fifth one came out. Its competition the year Saw 5 came out and to boot it to 2nd place, High School Musical 3. By then the steam was up on the series and the “torture porn” category of this type of horror film was on its way out. Eventually the movies did end for a while after the abysmal seventh chapter, ironically named “The Final Chapter.” This lasted for about seven years until the weird eighth and forgettable chapter that was Jigsaw. Again, the series would stay dormant for four years until it got a ninth chapter with a odd boost of star power from Chris Rock and Samuel L. Jackson with Spiral, another weird entry that is odd but not memorable.

With the announcement of Saw X last year, one could only imagine where it could or would go, and then tonight after watching it I’m truly glad to report back, this was a big swing and a hit for a franchise that eventually became its own punchline. The tenth installment is a huge breath of fresh air and I’m extremely happy to see critics embracing this as much as they did the original. Fans on the other hand, we shall see- because what this one does so right is what the sequels forgot to do. It creates a story with these characters. In this case, when characters are killed off you feel something for them. While this was the base formula for Saw 2, it got muddled at the halfway mark, and from there onward, the remaining sequels were simply   mind numbing with the amount of red shirts they would bring in to just die a whole two minutes later. 

The last time a Saw movie did this was the original film, and what I mean by that is that this movie builds its world. Its story line, its characters are genuine and it takes its time in doing so.   even get an opening trap to this film because the initial focus is on world building. What we do get is a daydream trap but it’s never brought to fruition. In the nearly two hour runtime, we don’t get a trap until almost the 50 minute mark, and honestly- it works for me, for this film, and the series that once relied only on the traps themselves and not the story. This movie is so much like its original counterpart that it is the ultimate love letter to itself, and is the perfect actual “Final Chapter” if it were to become it, because I’m not really sure where the series could go from here without a full on remake. 

Of course one couldn’t talk about this movie without talking about Tobin Bell and the wonderful return of Shawnee Smith as Amanda, whose exit in Saw 3 was massively felt by a lesser Detective Hoffman character taking over. It was so nice to see the chemistry that they’ve developed between these two characters over the last 19 years. 

So, should you watch all 9 movies before you go into this? If you’d like. Do you have to watch all 9 movies before you go into this? Absolutely not. Saw X is actually set in between Saw and Saw 2. So no, you don’t have to watch all 9 (but go ahead, who am I to dictate that for you). What is really refreshing about a nearly two decade long franchise to come back with something that feels fresh and different is that the writers did it the right way (unlike last year’s Halloween Ends that was such a swing and giant miss that it’s universally panned by critics and fans alike) meaning that what they could have done here is given us another run of the mill sequel but instead they took the liberty to craft a story based on what made the original so great and bring in characters to support the story and not take it over.

So whether a fan of the franchise or a casual movie goer, as long as you’ve seen the first Saw, go see Saw X. You will have a blast if you can put on your 2004 glasses and enjoy the holiday season.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Flora and Son’ is Grounded and Genuine


Director: John Carney
Writer: John Carney
Stars: Eve Hewson, Jack Reynor, Joseph Gordon-Levitt

Synopsis: It follows Flora, a single mom who is at war with her son, Max. Trying to find a hobby for Max, she rescues a guitar from a dumpster and finds that one person’s trash can be a family’s salvation.


Overall, Flora and Son will be your least favorite John Carney film, but it may be the most relatable and honest. It also features the best performance in any of Carney’s films from Eve Hewson. Her off-key and inharmonious character gives the viewer some grounded discord that sets Carney’s film apart from the rest of his filmography

The story follows Flora (Hewson), a single mother stuck in arrested development. Flora and her ex-boyfriend Ian (Jack Reynor) are co-parenting her troubled teenage son, Max (Orén Kinlan), who has been detained several times for fighting and petty theft. A local guard (Don Wycherley) wants Max to join a local boxing club to keep him out of trouble because the next time he’s arrested, he will serve some time in a juvenile detention center.

The issue is that Flora and Ian had Max when they were very young, and both parents are still trying to find themselves, just like Max. Ian is between jobs, and Flora still loves the beats of club music, where she dances and takes strange men home to her apartment, not considering if Max is there. In fact, Flora is so self-involved that she forgets her son’s birthday.

To rectify that, Flora finds a string guitar, pays someone to fix it, and gives it to Max as a gift. After the peace offering blows up in her face, she takes guitar lessons herself. Flora finds a handsome music teacher named Jeff (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) online for $20 a session so she can start strumming the strings and find some purpose in her life.

Flora and Son was directed by John Carney, the ingenious maestro behind such musical films as Once, Begin Again, and the cult favorite Sing Street. His latest work is more like the love child of Sing Street and Once in tone, with fewer musical numbers and gritty artistry. It is more focused on depicting the aftermath of the characters’ failed musician dreams (Jeff), the youthful exuberance of musical aspirations (Max), and the redemption music can offer (Flora).

Carney’s script deals with that in-between with Hewson’s Flora, who had a child so young she’s still trying to find her way, stunting the progress of her flesh and blood. What’s exciting about this concept is that Flora is openly transparent and honest with everyone around her, which makes for a refreshing experience for the audience.

This becomes even more apparent as Flora and Jeff’s practice sessions progress. Carney has created a bond with these sessions and weekly meetings that begin to be more therapeutic than educational. This offers vulnerable characters self-reflection, providing a connection when those expressions of personal emotional connection are needed.

As they continue to talk, the boundary from education to therapy is crossed into something intimate. Imagine how personal writing your song can be, and collaborating with someone you are attracted to can be euphoric. Carney incorporates some very clever camera editing maneuvers to evoke these emotions as if Jeff were in the room with Flora.

While we can wax poetic about the utterly charming chemistry between Flora and Jeff, the wholly unapologetic performance by Hewson keeps the film from floundering in its third act, practically nose-diving headfirst into mediocrity. Hewson’s Flora is a natural, authentic, and, at times, almost despicable mother who finally finds her way when faced with an opportunity to change her life, make a choice, and ultimately show some overall maturity. Case in point: Hewson is a character that’s three-dimensional, unvarnished, and hard to like  in one moment but charming the next. 

My big issue with Flora and Son, however, is that songs swoon exempt the final number that’s meant to tie everything together. You’ll watch Jeff and Flora heat up the screen and be vibrant when Max begins to assemble his dance beats. 

However, the film shifts into something overtly sentimental, and the film’s most significant musical number it ends with is underwhelming, even if it’s meant to change the movie into something heartwarming that feels cheaper than anything Carney has ever done.

Ultimately, Flora and Son offer an experience unique to Carney’s cinematic worldview, where music can bring people together. It may not be Carney’s best work, but it’s his most grounded and enjoyable. 

Grade: B-

Movie Review (NYFF 2023): ‘Strange Way of Life’ Focuses Only on the Looks


Director: Pedro Almodóvar
Writer: Pedro Almodóvar
Stars: Pedro Pascal, Ethan Hawke, George Steane

Synopsis: After twenty-five years Silva rides a horse across the desert to visit his friend Sheriff Jake. They celebrate the meeting, but the next morning Jake tells him that reason for his trip is not to go down the memory lane of their friendship.


Beautiful garments and shots are all over Pedro Almodóvar’s most recent short film, Strange Way of Life. But he holds back on answering the tough questions from the complex relationship of its characters, which are brought to life via dedicated performances by Pedro Pascal and Ethan Hawke.

In 2020, Pedro Almodóvar blessed the world with a brilliant short film (which should have been nominated for the Oscar in its category and eventually won it) and his first English language project, the Tilda Swinton-led The Human Voice. The short seemed like a halfway point for the Spanish director’s most personal works to date, Pain and Glory and Parallel Mothers. These three projects made me think that after decades of providing influential and generational works for filmmakers across the world with his melodramas, he is heading for a more mature set of films that explore his own past (alongside his country’s history), as well as the human condition in a clearer note, one that demonstrated defined and sharper notes than what we have seen before. But his latest project, a Yves Saint-Laurent short of the Western genre, titled Strange Way of Life, doesn’t seem to depart from that recent trajectory. 

Pictured through the lens of one of Spain’s most artistic auteurs in Pedror Almodóvar, Strange Way of Life is a story about lovers turned rivals who later connect after a series of unfortunate events. They were separated by their desire for something more in life. They meet once again, noticing that, even though they are currently living totally different personas, they still hold on to their memories together – lighting a candle that hasn’t burned in many years. We have seen similar stories like this. Most of them aren’t set in the Wild West. Most of these tales are told in modern settings, varying in their time of release. If one director tried their hand at reworking such to a time when outlaws and cowboys were running up and down the saloon, Almodóvar would be a proper fit, as he’s known for having not only a specific style to his films, which is highly present in this film (to a fault) but also handling his melodramatic affairs with dashes of complexity. 

The main characters in Pedro Almodóvar’s latest short are Silva (Pedro Pascal) and Jake (Ethan Hawke), both appearing in dapper attire courtesy of Yves Saint Laurent. It has been almost three decades since they had their last emotional experience. And a lot has happened since then. They have similar lives with partners they hold dear and children to care for. Jake is a sheriff; he has his eyes on the bandits and runaways so that they don’t cause any trouble on his “turf”. Meanwhile, Silva has a more calm life in comparison; he’s a rancher in the hills. However, as expected, they will soon reconnect after a sticky situation that involves both of them occurs. Silva’s son, Joe (George Steane), has been accused of killing Jake’s sister-in-law. This creates a psychological and emotional debacle for both parties. 

Their “reunion” is forged by a tragedy, yet it feels as if it was fate that gathered all of these people together. As the time comes for the two to see eye to eye after almost thirty years, a couple of questions pop into your head. What will Silva do to save his son from a gruesome fate? What will be Jake’s reaction to his appearance and Silva’s connection behind the death of his sister-in-law? A dinner, some red wine, and conversations about their past almost make Jake excuse Joe’s action. But he concludes that Silva uses such to keep his son safe. The pair’s relationship fractures even more, causing them to stand off against one another as the anger fuels their body, while on the inside, they still have feelings for one another. 

From the luscious costumes and cinematography by frequent Almodóvar collaborator José Luis Alcaine, Strange Way of Life has a beautiful look. The Spanish filmmaker always has an eye for creating fabulous designs that pop because of the color palette and are lifted by the intimacy (and, in some occasions, eroticism) in the story. And with Yves Saint Laurent backing up the project, of course, you will have some fantastic cowboy looks that plenty of people would love to rock – although I don’t think they will pull it off like the film’s cast here. If there’s one specific factor that I can praise, it is that Almodóvar still has the gift to make his movies have a similar atmosphere and aura yet separate them from one another in his approach to each respective story. Not many directors have that ability; he remains one of the few who achieves it on a more consistent and gratifying basis. 

However, unfortunately, the reason why this short film doesn’t work is because Almodóvar seems to be holding himself back and relying more on the aesthetic of this fashion design company-concocted Western. He doesn’t seem to be completely interested in answering those questions that linger in your head, leaving the complexity of his melodramatic directorial touches and opting for a more visual banquet. And, as I mentioned before, he nails it entirely on that aspect. But you aren’t given much to care about, as the intricate story beats of Silva and Jake’s relationship are too flimsy. On an emotional level, there’s nothing to hold on to. The thirty-minute runtime doesn’t do justice to this story’s potential. 
Since this is a minor project compared to his other works, you won’t be getting all the details from their relationship. Yet, that doesn’t mean you have to leave out what makes these two people click – what ignited their hearts in the first place – mainly since the story relies on reuniting these two souls back, whether by chance or forced. After giving us The Human Voice and Parallel Mothers in this decade alone, two projects that are among his best to date, I thought he would continue his mature approach and keep delivering some self-analyzing and determined works. Strange Way of Life may be ambitious, but the restraint in its characters and story’s development keeps it from becoming something of greater value than its expensive garments.

Grade: C-

Criterion Releases: October 2023

All of the films coming out this month are part of the horror/suspense genre. From the time of silent films, these stories have been part of the cycle of movies being shown to audiences. It is classical and always attractive to make. Two of these horror classics are being re-released for 4K, two more are from the 21st century, and a three-film set honors a director who was never revered during his lifetime. The horror films of the month from Criterion are worth seeing.

Tod Browning’s Sideshow Shockers (1925-1932)

Tod Browning started as a vaudeville and circus performer before being hired to act, write, and direct different melodramas where his past was part of the stories he made. In an era before the Code came in and censored certain topics, Browning told stories of the exotic, psychosexual, and inner beauty which was way ahead of his time. Three of his films are being brought out for Criterion: Freaks, The Mystic, and The Unknown. 

Made during his tenure with MGM, these films unleashed his eccentric, shocking, and downtrodden characters which stand the test of time. Freaks is considered his magnum opus and the most direct from his past life in the circus, portraying those characters with disabilities that were sideshow acts while also being compassionate about them. Nearly forgotten, Browning’s legacy has built up a cult following which endures to this day. 

Don’t Look Now (1973)

The first of two re-releases is Nicholas Roeg’s supernatural masterpiece starring Donald Sutherland and Julie Christie. After the drowning of their daughter, the couple relocates to Venice for work when images suddenly appear that foreshadow what is coming to them. Roeg’s story of grief and the memories that haunt us after is beautifully shot and edited, keeping viewers off their toes on what could be the actual thing that is creeping up behind them. It is the supernatural at its finest. 

Videodrome (1983)

The second re-release is a staple of David Cronenberg’s filmography, a cyber tech body horror tale of cable TV and the disturbing connections it can have. James Woods is a TV producer looking for new programming for the channel and sees this disturbing show he wants. It is surreal and quite visually haunting, causing the necessary shock Cronenberg is known to produce as in Scanners and The Fly. TV is certainly today “the new flesh” that has controlled the public’s mind. 

The Others (2001)

Director Alejandro Amenábar’s gothic horror story was also his first English-speaking film following the acclaim of Open Your Eyes, which was remade the same year as Vanilla Sky. Nicole Kidman plays a mother who stays with her two children on an island in 1945 towards the end of WWII. When three new servants move into the home, a strange phenomenon occurs in which the dead begin to reach out to the living. The darkness that shrouds everyone creates a sprint-tingling sensation for viewers that still seeps through twenty-two years after its release. 

Nanny (2022)

The debut of director Nikyatu Jusu features a young Senegalese immigrant (Anna Diop) to the United States who has left her son to make money as a babysitter for wealthy white couples. Willing to take some of the exploitation by them, memories of anger come upon her which threatens to destroy her from within. It won the Grand Jury Prize at the Sundance Film Festival, a first for a horror film, and displays a unique power that makes Jusu a director to keep an eye on.

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review: ‘Reptile’ Never Fails To Entertain


Director: Grant Singer
Writers: Grant Singer, Benjamin Brewer, and Benicio del Toro
Stars: Benicio del Toro, Justin Timberlake, Eric Bogosian

Synopsis: Nichols, a hardened New England detective unflinching in his pursuit of a case where nothing is as it seems, one that begins to dismantle the illusions in his own life.


Reptile is an atmospheric Southern crime thriller dripping with an ominous and obsessive style that gradually seeps under the skin, keeping the viewer on edge and making them uneasy. Grant Singer’s haunting tale excels when the script delves into fear and explores how good people create a moral gray area to unburden themselves of the guilt of doing very bad things.

The story follows Tom Nichols (Benicio del Toro), a once-celebrated Philadelphia detective who has taken a job in a small township. His wife, Judy (former del Toro Excess Baggage co-star Alicia Silverstone), arranged the position, and his uncle, who suffers from multiple sclerosis (Eric Bogosian), secured the job after a scandal back east left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth. That move pays off when Nichols is assigned to investigate the scandalous murder of a local real estate agent.

Her name was Summer (Matilda Anna Ingrid Lutz), and she was separated but dating a wealthy real estate magnate, Will Grady (Justin Timberlake), who discovered her brutally murdered body in a house they were both preparing to put on the market. Summer was stabbed so brutally that the murder weapon was left behind, lodged in the victim’s pelvis with sheer force. Assisting in the investigation is Nichols’s partner, Detective Dan Cleary (Ato Essandoh), another officer with aspirations beyond the police department (Domenick Lombardozzi, exceptional here), and a mysterious sleuth (Michael Pitt) with an agenda.

This is Singer’s directorial debut after directing music videos for some of the industry’s mega-stars, including The Weeknd, Sky Ferreira, Lorde, Sam Smith, and Skrillex. In short, the man knows style. Still, what makes his debut feature so surprising is its autonomy. From an ominous climb up a dark staircase to a shadowy figure trapping its prey, minimalist symmetry is clean and conveys a visual sense of order and balance. Yet, this is all an act to give the appearance of order when what is happening around the characters is nothing but sinister.

The film’s title refers to the cold-blooded nature of people. In the first few minutes, a character finds a snake that has shed its skin, a metaphor for how some can shed their covers, exposing their cruel nature. Singer co-wrote the script with del Toro, and Benjamin Brewer has infused this discerning story with that sentiment, loading the frames with the subtlest of symbolic imagery. By the time the third act rolls around, the smallest revelations are enhanced by the carefully meticulous plot, the unsettling cinematography of Mike Gioulakis, and the sinister musical score by Yair Elazar Glotman and Arca.

Generally, I never have an issue with a movie’s running time because movies have to be as short or long as they need to be. As Roger Ebert would say, no great film is long enough, and no bad film is short enough. While this review is very positive, Reptile has a longer-than-expected run time, but upon a second watch, most of it was needed to understand the plot. With the exception of the puzzling beginning dinner scene (and the divisive ending sequence), the film’s visual and pitch-perfect pacing hardly make the 132-minute running time barely noticeable and never drags along. While some subplots within the first two acts seem like filler, everything works out in the end.

Even at Reptile’s weakest moments, the film never fails to entertain, even if the ending has a giant plot hole involving witnesses looking through a window, which can be maximized based on how you interpret the conclusion, which is meant to create discussion points.

Regardless of the perspective, Reptile can gracefully navigate the viewer with a steady hand thanks to del Toro’s magnetic performance, which effortlessly seizes your attention. Disregard those critics intent on comparing Reptile to the king of underbelly crime thrillers, David Fincher, which is an unnecessarily high standard. Movies deserve to be evaluated on their own merits, and they have entirely missed the point because they were not carefully paying attention.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘The Nature of Love’ Sets Monia Chokri Apart


Director: Monia Chokri
Writer: Monia Chokri
Stars: Magalie Lépine-Blondeau, Pierre-Yves Cardinal, Micheline Lanctôt

Synopsis: Sophia’s life is turned upside down when she meets Sylvain. She comes from a wealthy family, while Sylvain comes from a family of manual workers. Sophia questions her own values after abandoning herself to her great romantic impulses.


There isn’t a single more extraordinary filmmaker working in Québec today than Monia Chokri (some will say Denis Villeneuve, but he’s out here making large-scale Hollywood blockbusters, so it may or may not count, depending on who you ask). Her first feature, A Brother’s Love (La femme de mon frère), is one of the most revelatory debuts this province has seen, perhaps since Villeneuve’s August 32nd on Earth (Un 32 août sur terre). And her sophomore feature, Babysitter, takes parts of A Brother’s Love’s anxiety-fueled ultra-absurd scenes and cranks it up to a thousand. For some, it was too much. For me, it was 88 glorious minutes I will gladly watch again (and again), and one of the boldest productions Québec has seen during this new decade.

Not even a year after Babysitter’s release, Chokri premiered her latest movie, The Nature of Love (Simple Comme Sylvain), at the Cannes International Film Festival – and now the film has finally hit our screens after months of anticipation. In this feature, Chokri dials down on the absurdity and instead offers a poignant, often lyrical, mediation on humanity’s desire to love. It may very well be the best film released in Québec this year, but it’s also one of the best dramedies of the year. Period.

If we want to analyze a director’s recurring motifs, Chokri’s fascination with philosophy is a good place to start. It plays a significant role in A Brother’s Love but is even more prominent in The Nature of Love. Heh, and the English titles for both films end with LOVE, and both main characters are named Sophia, who study/teach philosophy. In The Nature of Love, Sophia (Magalie Lépine Blondeau), teaches a philosophy class for seniors focused on…love but has difficulty communicating with her partner, Xavier (Francis-William Rhéaume). The biggest visual sign that they aren’t in love is apparent from the beginning: the two don’t sleep in the same room, even if they tell themselves they love each other before bed.

Sophia has to go to the summer cottage to supervise its renovations, where she meets Sylvain (Pierre-Yves Cardinal), an independent construction worker with an outlook on life that feels so freeing for Sophia that they immediately lock arms and have sex. Of course, you probably know where the movie will go from there, but there’s something in Chokri’s picture that makes it stand out amongst the rest of most clichéd romantic comedies. 

For instance, she teams up with cinematographer André Turpin (best known for his collaborations with Xavier Dolan) and gives the movie a visual palette that’s so unlike anything we’ve seen before, it’s almost indescribable. Some of the visual cues feel evident, splashes of Michel Brault, François Truffaut, Jacques Demy, John Cassavetes, and even shots that feel plucked out of Denis Héroux’s Valérie are found. Turpin frequently uses crash-zooms to enhance the intimacy, not only in Sophia and Sylvain’s relationship but in visually representing how the characters evolve as the movie continues to morph from light-hearted romantic comedy to absurd mumblecore, to then finish with an intimate drama examining not only “the nature of love,” but the nature of life itself.

How Chokri frames her actors is the key The Nature of Love holds. Some shots don’t feel as well-stitched together as others, particularly in a sequence where Sylvain and Sophia engage in primal screams, but that’s by design. There isn’t a single visual moment in this film that doesn’t feel important, whether it’s setting the locations or representing Sophia’s internal monologues, which the audience tries to examine as she sits alone outside, smoking a cigarette, only for the movie to interrupt her moments of solitude with an unexpected event, or character, appearing in the frame.

Even the background noise feels essential and enhances our understanding of the world Sophia inhabits (and Émile Sornin’s score is impeccable). Family conversations with the different parents she encounters throughout the film, whether her mother (Micheline Lanctôt), Sylvain’s (Linda Sorgini) or Xavier’s parents (Marie Ginette-Guay & Guy Thauvette), show different facets of the nature of love –and life: whether it’s heated family discussions at the dinner table (lord knows Quebecois love to talk loudly about anything and anyone) or brief, fleeting glimpses of a love that once existed, but is no longer there as disease progresses. It’s equal parts hilarious and devastating, striking a rare balance between comedy and drama that feels integral to how the film is shaped.

But it’s also bolstered by incredible acting – Lépine Blondeau gives the best performance of her career. She shares electric chemistry with Cardinal, who is equally charming and funny. The supporting cast is also excellent, with Chokri herself appearing alongside Babysitter’s Steve Laplante in some of the movie’s funnier – and more awkward – scenes. Without spoiling anything, one of the film’s final scenes is The Nature of Love’s most integral and encapsulates its entire message.

Everyone will have a different definition of what “The Nature of Love” is, and Chokri smartly leaves room for interpretation. Those who are expecting the same level of absurdity found in A Brother’s Love and Babysitter may be disappointed, but there’s no denying how massively ambitious this picture is, not only for Chokri’s incredible career as an artist but also for Québec cinema as a whole. It’s one of the funniest and most heartbreaking movies you’ll see all year, and it cements Chokri as one to watch as a daring auteur who never made the same film twice and will seemingly continue pushing the boundaries of what modern Québec cinema can – and should – be.

Grade: A+

Movie Review: ‘No One Will Save You’ is a Minimalist Thrill


Director: Brian Duffield
Writer: Brian Duffield
Stars: Kaitlyn Dever, Elizabeth Kaluev, Zack Duhame

Synopsis: An exiled anxiety-ridden homebody must battle an alien who’s found its way into her home.


What I enjoyed about Hulu’s No One Will Save You is that it gets right to the point. By the end of the first act, writer/director Brian Duffield stops pussyfooting around and immerses the viewer in a monster in the house picture that feels fresh and remarkably alive because of its anxiety-ridden plot and lead performance. A chiller where the horror isn’t just lurking around the corner but in the deepest parts of our brain.

That’s because of the performance from Kaitlyn Dever, who has no more than a few dozen words in the entire image and who’s not afraid to look rough, messy, and sweaty like any of us would be as we give chase to something that ranges from looking like a cute E.T. to a giraffe-sized praying mantis with ease. 

Very early on, Duffield’s script has the viewer on edge, as Dever’s Brynn Adams seems more isolated than most early twenty-something pretty twenty something to be. Brynn gets snide looks, and she hides at the sight of a middle-aged couple (Geraldine Singer and Dae Rhodes) pushing their way into their golden years. The poor girl seems to have no family, even friends, and, in particular, is alienated (remember that word) by the entire community. 

What did Brynn do? Well, that is half the suspense and mystery that lay the foundation. The morning before, Brynn found a small burnt-out circle in her yard, thinking she had to water it because the grass must have died. Later that night, she sees something inhuman outside her door just after her house loses power (including even the phone). The first thirty minutes are as obsessively intense and nail-biting as any thriller you will find this year.

Duffield is a master of alienation, creating dread with every single creak, shadow, light, and pin-sized nail drop from a windowsill. Along with the help of director of photography Aaron Morton, Duffield’s film showcases his keen eye for evocatively ominous visuals, such as the beautiful overhead shot tracking a bus and revealing numerous front lawns with the same circle that Brynn has in her front yard. Each image is meticulously integrated, nicely avoiding your standard cliche jump scares.

While No One Will Save You does delve into some tropes—running from a monster in a house and finding yourself stuck, hiding under the bed, others being overtaken by something unexplainable—they are executed well. It’s a thriller meant to entertain. While we can complain about the generic use of film techniques in mainstream films nowadays, you cannot deny the seamless tone, tension, and suspense that the team of Duffield and Dever build with each passing scene.

Credit should also go to Dever, who excels in film and television and must carry the movie’s weight on her shoulders for the entire 90-plus minutes. With limited dialogue, she skillfully portrays her character’s thoughts and emotions in a way that feels entirely authentic, compelling, and convincing. Yes, before you start rolling your eyes and screaming out loud about this being a horror picture, you should acknowledge that carrying a film by yourself with virtually no one else to play off of or support you is no easy task.

Yet, the ending is so weird that there’s no other word to describe it—the Stepford Wives-inspired moment surprisingly works. The entire film is a giant metaphor for Brynn’s lot in life: being “alienated” by her community, fighting her inner demons, the inner turmoil of acceptance, moving towards self-compassion, practicing mindfulness, taking responsibility, and letting go.

No One Will Save You is such an unrelenting, arm-rest-grabbing, psychological chilling banger that you’ll forgive almost any artistic choice Duffield wants to embrace. His film is a minimalist thriller, virtually dialogue-free, brilliantly simple, and deftly poignant. It has a wickedly satisfying ending that breezes by while leaving the viewer on the edge of their seat.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Chuck Chuck Baby’ is Comfortable in Its Skin


Director: Janis Pugh
Writer: Janis Pugh
Stars: Louise Brealey, Annabel Scholey, Emily Aston

Synopsis: Helen lives with her ex-husband, his 20-year-old girlfriend, their new baby – and his dying mother Gwen. Her life is a grind, and like all the other women she toils with at the local chicken factory, is spent in service of the clock. She lives only for laughing with her friends at work, caring for Gwen, and music. When Joanne, the girl she secretly loved at school, comes back to town, Helen’s world is turned upside down.


Chuck Chuck Baby explores the lives of its characters in the present moment and one in particular who is incapable of it. The film’s main protagonist, Helen, is in a challenging situation. She’s divorced but still living with the man raising another woman’s infant child, which is magnified because she cannot have any of her own. Living in North Wales, she cares for Gwen, a mother figure who lives with her. Even her ex-husband’s girlfriend resides there, and none of them work. Everywhere she turns, Helen is reminded that she’s living a life she never wanted. 

However, that’s all about to change with the return of her high school crush, Joanne (Annabel Scholey), who hardly acknowledges her existence as if she’s going out of her way to ignore Helen. Yet, her return reawakens something inside her. This is a noticeable change because, up to this point, her factory friends have had to drag her along in life practically without her consent. She’s the sad sack of her clan, a group of women working the overnight shift at a local chicken processing plant who break out into song at the sight of some chicken feathers or even a grocery cart.

Despite the joy her friends try desperately to infuse into her everyday comings and goings, life has beaten Helen down, causing her to lose some of her thirst and the joy it can bring. Through self-healing methods involving alcohol, laughter, and music, these women find solace. That doesn’t mean life will immediately turn around for Helen, a woman with fiery red hair who is anything but a spitfire; she’s stuck in an eternal melancholy state. 

Chuck Chuck Baby, which refers to the company where the women work. Headlining the cast is Louise Breasle, who portrays Helen, delivering a stoic yet brave performance that rediscovers some of the joy life can offer. The screenplay, and direction come from Janis Pugh, who previously worked on the The Befuddled Box of Betty Buttifint. That film deals with the fragile nature of living in the past with fractured memories and exploring the theme of healing in Chuck Chuck Baby. This underlying theme runs throughout the film beneath all the whimsical musical numbers.

While the women in the film frequently break out into song, it serves as a symbolic shield to cope with the challenges in their lives. They need some form of creative (or perhaps even self-medicating) outlet to stay in the present moment so they don’t dwell on what lies ahead or what they may have left behind. Pugh’s film is as far outside the box as you can get from your traditional musical, evoking something much more grounded, joyful, and sad.

If anything, this is a modernized British working-class comedy with LGBTQ+ themes, and comparable, in my opinion, to The Full Monty, obviously, minus the work up to the big reveal, pun intended, in which the musical numbers replace their practice sessions. These dames, particularly Beverly Rudd’s Paula, ground the film’s whimsical nature into something grounded and relatable. 

There is something oddly refreshing about the Chuck Chuck Baby experience, besides characters being unkempt and virtually all being free of cynicism. For one, many films try to capture that person of a certain age and reignite their zest for life and love, with mixed results because it’s overflowing with melodrama that targets young adult and teen dramas. Somehow, Pugh captures that youthful exuberance in a middle-aged romance that leaves cynicism on the chicken processing plant floor.

That’s what makes Chuck Chuck Baby so effective, in how Pugh has her film remarkably comfortable in its skin. The story is not necessarily about finding love or purpose, but looking at your lot in life not too far in the future, or even wallowing about situations from past years but finding something in the present moment that makes life worth living. 

For example, when someone professes their love for you while white chicken feathers fall around you like freshly fallen snow, and that one person comes back and declares something passionate. 

There’s joy there, no matter how much chicken crap rests at your feet.

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘The Origin of Evil’ Ends Too Soon


Director: Sébastien Marnier
Writers: Fanny Burdino and Sébastien Marnier
Stars: Laure Calamy, Doria Tillier, Dominique Blanc

Synopsis: A woman on the verge of financial collapse attempts to reconnect with her wealthy, estranged father and his new family.


On the international festival circuit, American filmgoers are typically exposed to sophisticated, highly experimental arthouse fare. The likes of Philippe Garrel, Jacques Doillon, and Luc Moullet attract passionate followings within the relatively closed off world inhabited by dedicated cinephiles. However, these films generally struggle to reach a wider audience in the United States. Your average non-cinephile is quick to stereotype foreign films as artsy fartsy, pretentious nonsense. This means that it’s exceedingly rare for genuine commercial blockbusters to gain a foothold in the American market. For every A Man and a Woman (1966), there are dozens of hit films that fail to strike a nerve outside of a domestic setting. This contradiction often comes into play when one surveys the landscape of modern French cinema. There are plenty of great potboilers and romantic comedies being churned out in France but you wouldn’t know it if you walked into your local multiplex.

Sébastien Marnier’s The Origin of Evil (2022) is the sort of film that gets pushed out of the American market because arbitrary labels get attached to any and all foreign language films. It tells the twisty tale of the wealthy Dumontet family, which is headed by Serge (Jacques Weber), a commanding patriarch who regards his family members as vultures circling around his increasingly frail body. He will leave behind a valuable estate and when his secret lovechild Stéphane (Laure Calamy) appears on his doorstep, claiming that she wants to get close to her long lost father, it puts everyone on edge. His wife Louise (Dominique Blanc) and daughter George (Doria Tiller), regard her as an avaricious interloper who will try to steal their share of the inheritance left behind by Serge. While attempting to endear herself to Serge, Stéphane begins to wonder whether his relatives are actively plotting his downfall and comes to understand that she has unwittingly placed herself in the line of fire. 

As in any good thriller about morally vacuous rich people who are driven to commit increasingly perverse acts in their quest to increase their social status, the cast serves as a big selling point. Everyone from Calamy to Blanc goes big and with good reason. The film’s plot is so preposterous that the characters need to operate on a slightly heightened plane, where everyone lives their life as though they’re performing a farce on stage. It’s a real joy to see Calamy, who has already proven herself to be a masterful comedienne, return to her roots. In recent years, she has become better known for her work in gritty character studies and crime dramas, and while it’s gratifying to see her display her full range, it’s pleasant to see her weaponize the feisty charm that so endeared her to audiences back in the early 2010s. This slightly ditzy quality also allows her to play off against the hard-nosed, severe Weber in an effective manner. 


Beyond its ensemble cast, The Origin of Evil also boasts delightfully ostentatious production design and a rhythmic score that sets the tone for the entire film. The filmmakers work to immerse you in the nerve-racking situation that Stéphane finds herself trapped in, while also throwing in a couple of unexpected grace notes. However, the screenplay is guilty of under-developing many of the juicy plot points that get doled out over the course of the film’s first hour. As it hurtles into its third act, Marnier’s handling of tone and pacing gets a bit shakier. All of a sudden, it feels as though thorny, difficult subplots are being wrapped up rather too neatly. Perhaps this points to the fact that this sort of plot-heavy thriller is better suited to the needs of long-form storytelling. One can easily imagine a three hour cut of this film that has more time to linger on the high points in the film’s plot. As it is, the film ends up concluding right at the point when it seemed like things were really starting to heat up. Unfortunately, it comes as a real disappointment at the end of two hours of cracking entertainment.

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘A Million Miles Away’ is a Wonder Only the Movies Can Bring


Director: Alejandra Márquez Abella
Writers: Alejandra Márquez Abella, Bettina Gilois, and Hernán Jiménez
Stars: Michael Peña, Rosa Salazar, Julio Cesar Cedillo

Synopsis: A biopic about Jose Hernandez and his path from a farm worker to becoming an engineer and an astronaut. A tale of perseverance, community and sacrifice to accomplish a seemingly impossible dream.


The Prime Video film, A Million Miles Away, is akin to those beloved Disney live-action sports films based on true stories like The Rookie, Miracle, and Remember the Titans. The Michael Peña vehicle is a pure crowd-pleaser designed to have you stand up and cheer. For the most part, it does so because the film fully showcases the American dream and is there for the taking. You must have the will and determination to grab it but never let your dreams fall by the wayside. If you don’t stand up and cheer or at least give Jose M. Hernandez a Judd Nelson fist pump in the air, you may be dead inside.

Peña plays Mr. Hernandez, the son of Mexican immigrant parents who helped them pick the fields of American food every morning at four before he had to go to school. His parents, Salvador (Julio Cesar Cedillo) and Julia (Veronica Falcón), keep pulling their children out of school to migrate with the seasons to pick up work, despite the pleas of Jose’s teacher, Miss Young (Michelle Krusiec), who sees the immense potential in young Jose.

However, Salvador and Julia sacrificed their plans, even selling their home, to support Jose’s dream of an excellent education and achieving what they could not. After graduation, Jose lands a job at NASA, becoming an engineer, even though the receptionist hands over a large set of keys, thinking he must be the janitor who cleans their floors. At first, he is given menial tasks like making copies and forcing their hands to respect him by pointing out a flaw in their algorithms. His persistence pays off in many ways, as he meets a beautiful car saleswoman, Adela (Rosa Salazar), who is the opposite of the usual men she dates—a nerdy Chicano who aspires outside the bubble society has planned for them in those buzzing central California farmlands.

Director Alejandra Márquez Abella wrote the script along with Bettina Gilois and Hernán Jiménez, based on the biography written by Hernández. While the movie has your usual genre tropes and clichés, especially regarding Salazar’s Adela supporting her husband practically unconditionally, the film is exceptionally well-made and executed for family viewing. The first act is set up beautifully, with one of my favorite character actors (I know I’m using that term liberally), Cedillo’s Salvador, having a heart-wrenching revelation in the car with his family about the opportunity he has for his family.

The second act of A Million Miles Away is held up by Peña’s charming performance, showcasing his knack for disarming humor and folding in an endearing stoic poignancy. The actor also has exceptional chemistry with Salazar, with a romance that does not necessarily feel swooning but infectious. The writers also do an outstanding job showing the struggle of not only Hernandez achieving his dream but also the struggle it puts on the film’s subject and the family as a whole.

A Million Miles Away boasts a great cast that reflects an accurate cultural representation of the people and setting. This contributes to the beautiful sense of community that has their hopes pinned on Jose, who not only represents himself or his family but an entire community of people. I have been a massive fan of Salazar since her remarkable turn in the rotoscope animated series Undone and a devoted supporter of Cedillo since being Tommy Lee Jones’ travel companion in The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada. You also have Ozark’s Veronica Falcón bringing authentic mothering to the role, and even Bobby Soto does good work here, trying to shrug off the infamous film The Tax Collector, playing Jose’s younger brother.

Frankly, this film feels like one of those stories that live up to that “incredible true story” tagline, while at the same time, showing us that anyone can achieve anything they put their minds to. However, Abella’s movie hits differently. The sense of wonderment and achievement of living the dream through someone else’s eyes through a cinematic experience that only the movies can bring. 

A Million Miles Away is the year’s best family film. The kind of film that inspires you to reach for the stars and park there, if not just for a short while

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Rotting in the Sun’ Squanders Its Potential


Director: Sebastián Silva
Writers: Pedro Peirano and Sebastián Silva
Stars: Jordan Firstman, Rob Keller, Vitter Leija

Synopsis: Follows social media celebrity Jordan Firstman as he starts a search for filmmaker Sebastian Silva who went missing in Mexico City. He suspects that the cleaning lady in Sebastian’s building may be involved in his disappearance.


In Sebastián Silva’s Rotting in the Sun, the writer/director/actor plays a fictionalized version of himself dealing with a variety of struggles. As the Emil Ciroan novel he’s reading succinctly puts it, Sebastián is dealing with The Trouble with Being Born. HBO is turning down every pitch he throws at them as he finds himself living in a friend’s barely-held-together apartment. At no point in the film do we see Sebastián, the auteur of this meta-layered film, in a glamorous light. Instead, it’s a rather upsetting depiction of what it can mean to be an artist. To give and give and give, and everything is either taken for granted or cast aside into a pile of garbage due to a simple accident. It’s this depiction of artistry that makes the sudden turning point in Rotting in the Sun very intense and scary. But before that, Silva’s film has a ton of fun, indicating an interesting dichotomy to the filmmaker. 

As Mateo, Sebastián’s friend, finds the filmmaker disappearing deep within a K-hole losing his way in life, he pokes fun. Rather than sit down one-on-one, he takes light jabs in a way that may seem similar to how people typically treat relationships. As humans, we acknowledge when times are tough, but it usually takes quite a while to get to that point. Instead, it seems like society as a whole has found it easier to simply look past it and assume the storm will blow over soon. All will turn out okay if we simply ignore the warning signs and push them down with a beach trip. And that’s exactly what Sebastián does. Finding himself on the nude beach of “Zicatela”, one might think Sebastián is looking to get away from the darker thoughts brewing within. Yet, with book in hand, things don’t turn out nearly the way he, or the audience, might have assumed.

From there, Silva’s Rotting in the Sun takes a two-pronged attempt at showing how society grapples with mental health. More specifically, it deals with the consequences of society ignoring it; or at least it attempts to. On the surface, Rotting in the Sun is a clever film in how it goes about addressing its core themes. But its final two-thirds feels far too dull to resonate with viewers all that well. As three distinct parties try to cope and/or deal with the culpability of their actions, there’s no question that Silva knows exactly what he wants his film to say. It’s all there, captured in moments via handheld camerawork that feel not just worrisome, but damning. Yet, the finale involving Vero, arguably the most dense role of the film, from Catarina Saavedra, feels like it gives up on itself when all is said and done. A bow is put on the film and all its characters’ issues before either a palpable resolution is felt or a purposeful non-resolution is apparent. It’s a frustrating end to an otherwise solid house of cards being built.

Rotting in the Sun may squander its potential as a meaningful commentary on society dealing with mental health, but it doesn’t miss the mark when it comes to one of its central characters. Playing a fictionalized version of himself, every word out of comedian/influencer Jordan Firstman’s mouth is incredible. Taking a meta approach to comedy can be hit-or-miss nowadays, but Firstman handles it very well. He’s often laugh-out-loud funny without having a hint of tackiness to it. It’s impressive the levels at which this performance works when very little of it actually feels performative. What’s most ironic is his entire character feels like a commentary on performative Internet behavior in and of itself, so there’s just many comedic layers to enjoy here. While Rotting in the Sun certainly has issues thematically, it’s great that a distributor like MUBI is around to showcase the talents both in front of and behind the camera. While the commentaries within the film are rather broad overall, Silva’s film is one that’s entertaining and forces you to, at times, question a wide range of topics from social media and mental health to classism and nude beaches. The film is at its strongest when it plays out like a full-fledged beach comedy, but Silva must at least be applauded for not relying solely on this setting. Instead of stripping that beach of all its comedic potential, Silva rips his characters, and in turn, himself, back to reality in an attempt to make a film that speaks to a specific moment in time: the present many of us find ourselves in.

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘Kelce’ is Little More Than a Puff Piece


Director: Don Argott
Writer: Don Argott
Stars: Jason Kelce, Travis Kelce, Kylie Kelce

Synopsis: Highlights Kelce’s 2022-23 season, which started with him having to make one of the hardest decisions a professional athlete would ever have to make: Is it time to retire yet?


The new Prime Video sports documentary Kelce heavily depends on your enjoyment of the professional sport of (American) football. The narrative film focuses on Jason Kelce, and he’s not even the most popular Kelce in the National Football League. While I give the filmmakers credit for not putting their total focus on Jason Kelce’s unquestionably more popular brother Travis, this film is purely nothing more than a puff piece about a Philadelphia sports hero (bordering on legend due tohis Batman fascination alone). What’s disappointing is that the film’s subject is a character, a card, and a natural cut-up. However, the viewer doesn’t learn much about the man that we already know from numerous interviews or his popular podcast.

That’s the thing about Kelce: the entire experience makes the viewer ask either “What was the point?” or “Why now? Do we need the Jason Kelce documentary? Sure, the player’s popularity has never been higher (much of that is due to his younger brother being a superstar). After watching Kelce, you will walk away thinking the film was clearly designed as a sendoff of a popular sports player who put off his retirement, which indeed must have been to the chagrin of the filmmakers. Also, the documentary appears to be a setup for the Kelce brothers’ popular digital podcast, New Heights, which they started last year.

That’s not to say Jason Kelce’s story isn’t worthy of a feature-length movie. The man is a former Super Bowl champion, a six-time Pro Bowl selection, and probably even more impressively, a five-time first-team All-Pro. All of this is remarkable for a man who went to a non-power school at the University of Cincinnati and was a lowly sixth-round pick for the Philadelphia Eagles in the 2011 NFL Draft. There may be nothing more sports and even film fans like than an underdog story, and Jason Kelce is the epitome of it.

I would have loved a more intimate look at Kelce’s struggles to get to the NFL, but it’s only talked about briefly when using Rudy as a comparison to his rise in college football without much insight. In fact, much of his college experience is spoken of in the film, with Kelce being there for his younger brother Travis, who was kicked off the team, and Jason putting his reputation on the line and taking responsibility for his brother if they gave him a second chance.

The film’s theme is the struggle to play on the gridiron again. Kelce talks about that at length, even offering a glimpse of how he deals with pain, bruises, and inflammation before every practice at the ripe age of 35. While that offers quality insight, it appears the filmmaker must have been limited with their cameras because hardly any of the film shows the man training and rehabbing in the confines of the Eagles facility, which takes away the impact of knowing the pain and struggle it takes to walk out on the field every Sunday to get to that point.

I would have preferred more insight from Jason’s charming wife, Kylie, on his struggles and how the life of a professional athlete can affect family life at home. Still, we must recognize that Mrs. Kelce was pregnant at the time with their third child, so any undue stress a feature film would have put on her would have been inappropriate.

I will say, if you have seen any of Kelce’s podcasts or news story highlights, that the man is incredibly funny, down-to-earth, and authentic. The documentary feature does capture that to a degree. Kelce’s debate to bring a fan to the hospital during the delivery of their third child and his dry delivery describing growing a GMO garden filled with weeds. A natural leader, there are also some stirring speeches he delivers to his teammates before the big game the film leads up to that show you the kind of man he is.

By all accounts, and we realize this is all in front of the camera, Jason Kelce is a great teammate, a loving husband, and an even better father (the video of him playing with his children after the Super Bowl loss is adorable). Yet, the film’s theme does try to give you some understanding of what it takes to continue as a professional athlete, that work-life balance and the demands fans and media put on an athlete to make a retirement decision that is anything but easy are not reasonably met. Director Don Argott’s lens only went as deep as the subjects allowed, which limits the film’s impact. That makes Kelce a sports documentary film strictly for football diehards but even more so for the niche Philadelphia Eagles fans.

Grade: C-

Interview with Michael A. Goorjian – Director of Amerikatsi

For filmmaker Michael A. Goorjian, Amerikatsi was a passion project of sorts. As a member of the Armenian diaspora, he found it easy to relate to the film’s protagonist and wanted an opportunity to display Armenia’s rich cultural heritage on screen. The film is set during the post-World War II era and tells the story of Charlie Bakchinyan, an Armenian repatriate who is imprisoned on bogus charges after he attracts the attention of a local government official’s wife. He experiences deep depression while being locked up in solitary confinement but his mood improves when he discovers that his prison cell’s window allows him to look in on the day-to-day lives of a young couple. He finds himself vicariously living through them and develops a deeper understanding of Armenian culture by attempting to relate to their struggles. 

Zita Short had the opportunity to interview Mr. Goorjian about the film. 

Zita Short: Obviously this project has personal significance for you, as a member of the Armenian diaspora. Can you tell me a little bit about your family’s history and what inspired you to start working on this project?

Michael A. Goorjian: My grandparents were both survivors of the Armenian genocide and in being Armenian and being an artist, I have always felt that I needed to do something related to my heritage. A lot of the focus in film has been in and around the genocide, which is obviously an incredibly important topic. For me, it took a while to find the story that I felt I could tell. I wanted to tell a story that was hopeful. I wanted to spread information about the beauty of Armenian culture. 

As a people, we have suffered through so much and the film takes place during a turbulent period in the history of Armenia. I have heard it described as a “wound upon a wound.” There was the genocide and then thirty, forty years later you had members of the diaspora returning to Armenia and being sent to labour camps in Siberia. Even though the film takes place in that landscape, the story itself deals with survival and tells the story of people who choose to continue on in the face of difficult circumstances. 

ZS: Were there any Armenian directors, such as Rouben Mamoulian or Sergei Parajanov, that you drew inspiration from?

MAG: There’s a sequence in the film that serves as an ode to Parajanov. One of the main characters is an artist and he’s putting still lifes in the window for the prisoner to sketch and you even see glimpses of pieces that feature barbed wire being used as a frame. This was something that Parajanov had done when he was in prison. We don’t have a lot of filmmakers but everyone from Atom Egoyan to Mamoulian has inspired me. I have tried to let those influences help my film, I guess. 

ZS: Why do you think that so few English-language productions have focused on Armenia’s rich history and culture?

MAG: I think it’s partially exposure. The film industry there basically fell into disarray after the Soviet Union collapsed. We are also a split group and a split ethnicity because there is a divide that exists between the diaspora and those who still reside in the East. There are Syrian-Armenians, Persian Armenians, Lebanese Armenians, so many different types of Armenians. In making this film, we were able to bring all of these different groups together and had the opportunity to work in Armenia. The whole film was shot there and not many films are shot there. I think there haven’t been many because the genocide is such a huge event in our culture and has overshadowed other aspects of our history. It’s also notable that Armenia was a Soviet country, so its exposure in the West was always going to be limited. Hopefully that changes. 

ZS: Despite having a dark subject matter, the film is an old-fashioned crowdpleaser. Did you consciously attempt to echo films from the 1930s and 1940s while making the film?

MAG: The tone of the film really came from a few things. In ;ooking at the Soviet era and the Soviet system, one notices that there is so much absurdity inherent in the political climate of this period. For me, taking that and playing into the absurdity is a way of directly tackling it. I really wanted to make a film that would be able to reach as many people as possible, including young people. I wanted to make something accessible. I always wanted to capture the tone of the time and the characters. It ended up having this Old Hollywood feel. I wish there were more movies like that nowadays. I have had so many people come up to me at festivals and say “I wish there were more films like this.” I mean, I love heavy, dark, cynical movies. However, I think there should also be a place for light entertainment to flourish. 

My Top 10 Criterion Films: Redux

Five years ago, one of the first pieces I wrote for InSessionFilm was my Top 10 favorite Criterion films that I own. Recently, I joined Zita Short and Kristin Battestella to discuss some of our favorites, and my old list was brought up. This made me realize that I should review my list and update it since I have many new ones. Some of the films listed here also come from the old list while there are new additions to this one. In alphabetical order, here are my favorite Criterion films that I own. 

Breathless (1960)

Jean-Luc Godard’s groundbreaking film that helped ignite the French New Wave is now available for 4K, but I’ve had the original dual DVD/Blu-Ray release for a while. It still feels fresh and original and a piece of art that can be rewatched repeatedly. Video essays by critics Mark Rappaport and Jonathan Rosenbaum, a documentary on the making of Breathless, and the actual story by Francois Truffaut whom Godard used as the script among the special features of this cinema-altering movie from which everyone now takes some inspiration. 

Citizen Kane (1941)

It’s Orson Welles. It’s considered the best film ever made in American cinema. It remains a staple of how far the bounds of filmmaking can be pushed and it took a 26-year-old freshman in the business to show it. So much extra content is part of the set that it would take a lot of time to get through all of it and is well worth it. More than eighty years later, Welles’ rise-and-fall tale of a newspaper magnate remains an incredible movie I can rewatch and learn more about with every viewing.

The Color of Pomegranates (1969)

Filmed in Armenia while under the very repressive boot of the Soviet Union, Sergei Parajanov would take the life of musician/poet Sayat Nova and tell his story through the interpretation of Nova’s works. It is a story about Armenian repression and symbolizes what they still felt as a people being silenced. Parajanov himself would be imprisoned for some time. Yet, this unorthodox, abstract movie is a standout and drives emotions that other international films just don’t produce. 

The Complete Jacques Tati (1949-74)

It’s probably my favorite piece of Criterion that I own because it’s someone’s filmography by a director who is rarely mimicked today. Jacques Tati, the French Chaplin, used sound and physical gags in his highly choreographed films from Jour de Fete to his Swedish TV film finale, Parade. Tati was a writer-director-producer who thought of everything as he wanted but paid a hefty price when Playtime, arguably his best film, failed financially because the production costs skyrocketed past its original budget. Mon Oncle, which won the Oscar for Best International Feature, is personally my favorite film of his. It is one film in one disc at a time, thick as a book.

The Decalogue (1988)

Originally a TV mini-series on Polish television, Krzysztof Kieślowski made ten short films with each episode based on the Ten Commandments. Not religious, it tells a tapestry of stories from individuals living within an apartment complex and touches on many themes with every emotion. Two of them were given extended cuts – A Short Film About Killing and A Short Film About Love – and released to the world as samples of what Decalogue is. Here, Kieslowski made a broad appeal to his later films that would allow him to go outside of Poland. 

M (1931)

Fritz Lang’s psychological thriller, ninety-two years old, remains one of the most terrifying films I’ve seen. Peter Lorre may have made his name in Hollywood with The Maltese Falcon and Casablanca, but it will be this performance as a child murderer on the run that will be foremost in his repertoire. The disc also has the English remake of M from 1951 and an interview with Lang in 1975 featuring the now-late William Friedkin. This was one of my first Blu-Rays of Criterion and it remains a chilling film. 

Persona (1966)

Ingmar Bergman’s shocking film baffled me on my first viewing. The insert of an erect penis, the explicit talk of sexual relations with a minor, and the sudden appearance of a film camera are just part of Bergman’s montage that he originally was to be titled Cinematography before the studio demanded a real title. Liv Ullman and Bibi Andersson are on an island as a nurse cares for an actress who has suddenly fallen mute. His radical editing merges two faces into one and explores the concept of identity from a deep conscious level not performed on screen at the time.

The Rules Of The Game (1939)

Jean Renoir’s comedy of manners was also one of the first Criterion movies I bought. His satire against the French bourgeois was so scandalous that theaters that showed it were attacked and the movie was withdrawn to make cuts. It was butchered, then banned by Vichy France in the Second World War, and then left to be forgotten. However, time became friendly to Renoir and the film was rediscovered and rebuilt to a more faithful original version. Recently, the 4K-UHD rerelease gave a new cover; I own the cartoon cover which fits Renoir’s criticism and is considered among the greatest films ever made in the world. 

Shoah (1985)

It is the most important documentary ever made about the Holocaust. Claude Lanzmann’s nine-hour testament to those who survived the horrors at Treblinka and Auschwitz, as well as the Warsaw ghetto. No archival footage was used. Lanzmann doesn’t just talk to those who survived, but even among the surviving Nazi guards using a hidden camera as they did not want to be recorded. All four discs on Blu-Ray are demanded to be seen and heard by those who lived it and who were guilty of complicity in the most vile crime ever committed in the world.  

Three Colors Trilogy (1993-1994)

The last set of films by Polish director Krzysztof Kieślowski was a towering success and showed the amount of freedom he received since the fall of Communism. The French flag themes of liberty, equality, and fraternity set the stage for three different stories that interconnect at the right times. Juliette Binoche, Irene Jacob, Julie Deply, Jean-Louis Trintignant, and Zbigniew Zamachowski starred in this amazing slate of work with insight by noted Kieslowski scholar Annette Insdorf, interviews with some of the cast and crew, and the post-career documentary, I’m So-So, with Kieslowski himself made before his death.

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Op-Ed: Andersonian Grief: Anger

SAM

I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.

In a Wes Anderson film, anger is shocking. There are angry, blustery characters, sure, but there’s real anger, too. This anger often takes the form of violence. It’s primal and lightning quick. Anderson’s characters are full of passion in spite of their dry deliveries and crippling ennui. They lash out when they feel there’s no other choice. In a brilliant montage within Moonrise Kingdom, Anderson pairs audio clips of Sam Shakusky (Jared Gilman) and Suzy Bishop (Kara Hayward) reading the letters they send back and forth combined with visuals of their home life where they let loose their emotions on the people around them. That’s like a lot of Andersonian protagonists. They may seem to be overly calm and collected, but when pushed they will shove and shove hard.

One of the hardest shovers in the Andersonian oeuvre is Chief (Bryan Cranston), the alpha stray who co-leads a non-traditional pack in Isle of Dogs. Chief fought his entire life. He scraped by on the streets. The human need for dogs to be subservient pushed Chief to militancy. As Chief says to every dog and human he meets, “I bite.” Though, this phrase is used differently each time Chief says it.

Initially, it is a warning. Chief tells them he’s ready to do what’s necessary, always ready to throwdown to protect what’s his. In the first scene we meet him, he and his pack are going toe to toe with another pack and Chief is at the forefront. He’s truly a mad dog. Like all angry beings, Chief is afraid of something. In his case, it’s that if he lets his guard down for one second he’ll be thrown away again. He had a family once, masters who could have been good to him and he lost it. He’s lost everything because he bites.

When he says he bites later on when he tells his story it’s more of an admonishment of his own behavior. He wants a home. He wants to be taken care of, but he bites. He couldn’t let the family be what he needed. He had to do it or they would have found another excuse. He bit. He bit a child and just like that he was back out the door. His anger wouldn’t let him go and he let it overtake him. Instead of trying to be a good dog, he remained a mad dog. The anger is his dominant personality trait. Much like the anger that dominates Steve Zissou (Bill Murray, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou).

Steve Zissou is a clown. He’s a clown in the eyes of his peers, his fans, his crew, and his financial backers both paid and romantic. It’s his furious charisma that keeps his crew close to him. He’ll shower them with affection one moment and verbally tear them apart in another. He’s aggressively homophobic, an inept womanizer, a poor leader, and a lousy scientist who’s been failing upward his entire career thanks to those smarter and more talented than him letting him take centerstage. It’s a wonder he has any allies at all. Though, all of that hides that he’s also in a tremendous amount of pain.

The person that means the most to Steve in the world was torn away from him. Esteban (Seymour Cassel) built Steve up and gave him a home in another person. Steve’s had people come and go from his life, but Esteban was his rock. Esteban may have curbed Steve’s worst impulses, not his bad ones, but his worst ones. It’s clear that when Ned (Owen Wilson) shows up, Steve sees a conduit into being the person Esteban was for him. He could be the mentor figure for Ned, he wants to be the mentor figure for Ned, but he never fully accepts that role because that means Ned could supersede him in the eyes of his crew, his family. 

Steve needs his anger, his machismo. He can’t let some young buck swoop in and charm everyone. Ned’s charm, kindness, and inquisitive nature only push Steve into an angrier place because he’s not Ned, just like he’ll never be Esteban. It takes a second loss for Steve to realize that he has to try and let his anger go, that it won’t heal him the way he wants it to. He tries to compete with Ned, but it’s a losing battle. As much as his crew is loyal to him, for some reason, they would easily follow a more caring leader that has their best interests at heart. Charisma is only good for a few bad ideas, after that the sheen wears off and the people move on.

Max Fischer (Jason Schwartzman, Rushmore) is well on his way to becoming Steve Zissou. No, it’s not just their passing interest in oceanography, Max is seething with anger. He lets it out in short, quick bursts here and there. Usually, it’s a sophomoric display of pettiness. When he doesn’t like that his lead actor changes lines in his play or when he senses a challenger for the affections of Ms. Cross (Olivia Williams). It’s only when the only thing he’s ever been good at, being at Rushmore, is taken away, that his anger takes shape. It’s the terrifying calmness of a person who knows exactly what they’re doing and how their actions will affect others.

The loss of Rushmore compounds the grief Max is already suffering from the loss of his mother. She is the person who got him there by believing in his talents. He needs Rushmore to feel like he’s still someone in the world. Without it he’s nobody, like his father. When he and Herman Blume (Bill Murray) enter their prank war, which escalates beyond childishness and into real endangerment, Max is mad that Herman has started an affair with Ms. Cross, sure, but more than that it’s that Max’s inappropriate feelings for Ms. Cross which got him kicked out of Rushmore. If he hadn’t done the inadvisable and foolhardy thing of attempting to build an aquarium amid the baseball field, he would likely have skated by for another few months. Max’s angered grief blinds him to his own hubris in the matter. He lets his anger blind him to who the true mastermind of his own destruction is.

As a selfish teen with sociopathic tendencies, Max takes longer to realize how his actions have affected other people. He’s angry that they can’t see his brilliant vision. His sycophants don’t help him. The enabling adults in his life can’t stop him. It takes him losing even more than he ever thought he could to get him to look down at his shoe to see just how many people he’s stepped on. He sees that his anger bears no fruit. He’s young enough, even though he pretends to be much older, that his crossroads can change him for the better.

The things that set off anger in someone says a lot about them. Some of us will lash out at the drop of a hat, others can take a heap of punishment before reaching a breaking point. Most of Wes Anderson’s characters are bottled up. They have a passion that’s buried deep and most have a short fuse that will surprise viewers if they aren’t ready for it. Their anger is unhealthy and often violent. Their grief doesn’t come in stages, but as a wave, cresting and churning up all the other stages of grief along with it until the wave loses momentum as they reach acceptance. They come out of the wreckage on the other side better than they were. Their catharsis is often that the anger is what’s holding them back. 

Movie Review: ‘Jawan’ is a Visual Feast


Director: Atlee
Writers: Atlee & S. Ramanagirivasan.
Stars: Shah Rukh Khan, Nayanthara, Deepika Padukone

Synopsis: A high-octane action thriller which outlines the emotional journey of a man who is set to rectify the wrongs in the society.


To talk about Jawan without spoiling a damn thing is nearly impossible. However, it would rob you of the pleasure of discovering the film for yourself. There’s very little I can say without revealing an ounce of the plot other than it is an astonishing piece of work that consistently engages its viewer through a series of insane plot twists and one breathtaking action scene after the other. It’s perhaps the best Bollywood film of the decade, but definitely one of Shah Rukh Khan’s finest motion pictures. 

After [literally and figuratively] resurrecting from the dead in Siddharth Anand’s Pathaan, the King of Bollywood is on a more-than-determined quest to reclaim his throne as India’s most profitable and acclaimed star. The early box-office projections show Jawan easily obliterating Pathaan’s record-breaking gross and likely setting more records for Khan to easily beat once Tiger vs. Pathaan eventually comes out. Before the fourth chapter in the YRF Spy Universe, Khan’s recent stint of critical and commercial duds caused him to take a break from acting, thus robbing the world of the power he held in films like Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge, Chak De! India and Om Shanti Om

Suppose Pathaan was SRK’s resurrection from the nadir of his acting career. In that case, Jawan not only celebrates some of his greatest acting skills but also cements him as one of the greatest performers who ever lived, and not just in India. Some American journalists who completely missed the point of what he achieved in his multi-faceted career called him “the Tom Cruise of India,” but they fail to realize that Tom Cruise can’t do what Shah Rukh Khan does, just like he can’t do what Tom Cruise does. Tom Cruise is Tom Cruise, and Shah Rukh Khan is Shah Rukh Khan. There is no “Tom Cruise of India,” they’re both completely different actors with skill sets that have respectively gained them the adulation of billions of fans worldwide, and can’t be put on the same pedestal, other than the fact that they’ve had massive commercial highs and lows, just like any public figure. 

Jawan is Khan’s best film since Chennai Express – and one of his greatest roles to date. The film sees him play multiple characters with a deft balance of physical comedy (his timing is so impeccable it hurts), emotional weight, and total badassery, always owning every ounce of the frame. No one can grace a camera like Khan does. He consistently involves the audience watching throughout the film, looking directly at the camera and subtly breaking the fourth wall. He never fully breaks it, but when one of his characters says he wants to hear people clap after a tense situation ends positively, who is he talking to? The characters on-screen, the audience, or both? No matter: the audience clapped, responding everything Khan was doing for them with massive cheers. 

Appearances from Deepika Padukone, Sanjay Dutt, and even the director saw them go wild, making them take out their phones (with the flash on) to celebrate their icons on screen again. Normally, it would be bothersome, but it’s part of the custom (and fun) of seeing a great Indian film on the big screen. Someone on Twitter (I’m never calling it X) said that Shah Rukh Khan doesn’t make films but festivals while posting a video of a packed movie theater with a crowd so massive it surpasses the heights of the Barbenheimer craze in North America. Whoever said that SRK does festivals is right. You don’t even see these movies elicit these strong reactions for the entirety of their runtime. However, Jawan is one of those rare treats best seen with a packed crowd that is collectively blown away by the film’s multiple twists and mind-numbingly incredible action scenes. 

Believe me when I say this (even when I’m not even touching on the plot): the movie goes into so many wild directions through its 170-minute runtime that, even if you’ve started to figure out where the story goes and connecting its narrative threads, it will eventually catch you off-guard. And to do it in a way that feels natural to the story’s progression is even more impressive. Most spiderweb-constructed films like these usually fail within the third act, but Jawan only grows stronger by its masterful pre-interval sequence and delivers a finale for the ages. It’s also a much more politically charged film than I had anticipated, but its social commentary will resonate with all moviegoers, regardless of which country you’re from. It also allows Khan to give his most impassioned monologue in ages, another way to showcase the magnifying power he holds in front of a camera. 

He also has incredible chemistry with Nayanthara and Padukone. However, you already know that with the latter, if you’ve seen Pathaan or perhaps his other collaborations with her (Om Shanti Om remains a masterpiece). On the other hand, Nayanthara’s character takes a much different route than expected from the promotional materials, giving her much agency and emotional depth with Khan’s characters as the runtime progresses. 

Jawan is also a visual feast, always going the extra mile to widen the audience’s eyes in awe and bedazzlement. The movie gives John Wick: Chapter 4 a run for its money through its insane pre-interval scene that completely shifts the initial movie’s direction into something so crazy it could only happen in your wildest dreams. And yet, it works and brings about some of the greatest on-screen action you may ever see in a motion picture. I’m almost convinced the highway chase between large trucks and motorcycles is the greatest action scene ever put into film. But then something even more grandiose happens, and now I’m convinced this is the greatest action scene ever put to film, and so forth. 

I would love to discuss the movie in detail, but I would hate even to spoil an ounce of this thing to anyone. Sometimes, I touch upon key details that stood out for me and discuss several elements in detail. However, Jawan is a different beast. It’s a film best experienced without having seen (or read) anything about it beforehand, other than the pre-conceived fact that Shah Rukh Khan plays more than one character and that some known Indian stars also appear. Just know that the movie never takes your expectations in check and keeps obliterating them at every turn. It delivers thrills the likes of which you’ve never seen, with Shah Rukh Khan giving one of the very best performance(s) of a career filled with so many legendary roles. Pathaan saw him crawl back to his throne as the King of Bollywood, while Jawan forever cements him as an icon, no matter what other movie he chooses to do next. 

Oh, and he’s not going anywhere.

Grade: A+

Movie Review: ‘A Haunting in Venice’ Provides Only Cheap Scares


Director: Kenneth Branagh
Writers: Michael Green; Story by Agatha Christie
Stars: Kenneth Branagh, Michelle Yeoh, Tina Fey

Synopsis: In post-World War II Venice, Poirot, now retired and living in his own exile, reluctantly attends a seance. But when one of the guests is murdered, it is up to the former detective to once again uncover the killer.


I cannot imagine anyone other than Kenneth Branagh playing the legendary literary figure Hercule Poirot. The director brings an eye-opening amount of nuanced depth to the role. From the breathtaking scene of deductive reasoning in Murder on the Orient Express to the poignant portrayal of staggering strength and vulnerability in the sequel Death on the Nile. On top of that, his direction and the scripts by Michael Green made the character charming, funny, and even goofy, which can be endearing, while also making the plot reveals feel fresh, even though people have been stealing from Agatha Christie’s plot devices for years.

Yet, I am sorry to say that even though this critic kept holding out hope for the first 90 minutes, it became apparent that in the franchise’s third outing, A Haunting in Venice, when Poirot unveils what is in that clever mind of his, the reveal is underwhelming. You realize you saw a beautiful-looking monster in the house picture without much tension or even fascination.

A Haunting in Venice is based on Christie’s book, Hallowe’en Party, the 41st in the Poirot series. Michael Green is back to bring the adaptation to the big screen, along with Branagh’s direction. There are a couple of things that could be improved with the execution of this film compared to the first two. One, they no longer have a cast that rivals the previous most expensive plot camouflage you have ever seen to keep you guessing who the murderer is. Two, the source material is one of Christie’s most unheralded efforts and seems like a studio ploy to pander to up-and-coming Halloween audiences, which always does well in theaters. Finally, the casting of Tina Fey was a mistake because her one-note shtick grows tiresome quickly and shows her limited dramatic range.

While the film does have some big names, including Branagh, Fey, Jamie Dornan, and Michelle Yeoh; the rest of the cast, led by Kelly Reilly, doesn’t hold a candle to the first two. This takes away from the suspense because the film is not well-plotted enough to distract you from the apparent killer, which follows a classic trope that you can see a mile away.

Also, you would think Green would solve the book’s problems, but what made the book remarkable in the first place was changed to appease mass audiences. This causes the build-up to the reveal to be underwhelming (especially the second one), trading well-crafted plot points for dull attempts at supernatural horror thrills that feel cheap. The entire third act feels like such a throwaway. It’s practically a sin since you have to stick to the landing when it comes to genre films like this.

Then we come to Fey, one of the smartest comedic minds of her generation, but her acting is on par with Jerry Seinfeld here. At first, her whip-smart retorts seemed an homage to classic dames in 1930s Jimmy Cagney pictures. It’s fun at first, where this little bit of stunt casting feels like there’s a chance her performance will take off. However, when the film turns serious, Fey cannot stand up to Branagh’s Poirot, making the character feel lackluster and small in comparison when there needs to be a heaping amount of friction to make the subplot interesting.

A Haunting in Venice is exceptionally produced and beautiful to look at. There aren’t many locations that rival Venice, when it comes to bringing beauty and a haunting allure to films that want to add some of the thrills and chills of the movie theater experience. And while I have an issue with Fey, most of the cast does an admirable job (though Yeoh’s laughable chair-spinning scene may live in infamy). However, while watching the third installment, I thought the film had been a victim of studio marketing, claiming the movie was trying to put a spin on the film into a different genre. 

Yet, it became apparent Branagh and Green made a concerted effort to keep a supernatural element in the film, but like the source material, it simply doesn’t work and adds nothing to the story.

In fact, it takes away from it.

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘The Good Mother’ is an Unbalanced Story of Grief


Director: Miles Joris-Peyrafitte
Writers: Miles Joris-Peyrafitte and Madison Harrison
Stars: Hilary Swank, Olivia Cooke, Jack Reynor

Synopsis: After the murder of her estranged son, a journalist forms an unlikely alliance with his pregnant girlfriend to track down those responsible. Together, they confront a world of drugs and corruption in the underbelly of a small city.


The Good Mother is a throwback to 90’s thrillers where the villain is a clear and present danger, just like the Harrison Ford Tom Clancy movie title implies – you can’t mistake it. The script follows the old thriller trope, where the titular character is oblivious to the fact, but the bad guy says something innocuous that buries them later. However, the script by director Miles Joris-Peyrafitte and Madison Harrison offers not one but two classic crime thriller cliches like a first-act scene where one character admires an easily dismissible tangible item and becomes a key plot point. 

Now, all of that is fine as long as the execution is done well and the journey is entertaining enough because the writing offers something engaging or even fresh. The ending also needs to have a satisfying payoff in many ways. While I admire the finale’s choice, the underwhelming road to get there is a monotonous ride that, at the very least, has a merciful 90-minute running time.

Hilary Swank plays Marissa Bennings, aka The Good Mother, a journalist who is estranged from her son, who developed a fentanyl addiction after a baseball injury in high school. She is a widow with one son left, Tobey (Jack Reynor), a beat cop trying to start a family with his wife (Dilone). However, their world is turned upside down when Marissa’s youngest is murdered.

Bennings blames the deceased’s girlfriend, Paige (Olivia Cooke), for getting him hooked on the stuff in the first place. When Paige comes to the funeral, Marissa strikes her down with one hard slap, but as she does, Paige blurts out she’s pregnant. In true thriller fashion, they form a team to find the killer responsible for their loved ones’ deaths, which leads them down a path Marissa may not want to go.

A good portion of Joris-Peyrafitte’s script is tracking down a friend named “Ducky” (Hopper Penn), who’s nothing more than a storytelling stepping stool to get The Good Mother from a clear and obvious plot twist. At that point, the film tries to blend genres of crime thriller and family drama about second chances with themes of opioid addictions and the power of the written word.

Yet, the experience is disjointed and lacks focus and direction. The blend of genres and themes could be more more consistent. This is a trap filmmakers often find themselves in, trying to place certain biases and trying to force a fit that hardly works…

For example, when Marissa’s boss (Da 5 Bloods’s Norm Lewis) primary concern is not her son’s death, she takes time off to write more. This scene is unnatural and unnecessary and is made to validate the film’s title by the end of the third act. The film’s most powerful scene involving a mother and the story of how she lost her daughter is another storytelling tool to get Swank’s Marissa back to the investigation portion of the movie.

And that’s where The Good Mother makes a crucial mistake. The script is a drama, and the filmmakers try to force the script into something it is not. The movie would have been better served if it showed Swank’s grief, finding purpose with a grandchild, and finding a careful way to lead to the reveal seamlessly. Instead, the result is a thriller that needs more balance in its tone, and creative story arcs.

Grade: C-

Op-Ed: Films That Go On Strike

Labor unrest is not uncommon in any category of work. It is associated with blue-collar jobs and fights with unions seen on the streets with picket lines that play out in public. It has been part of building an industrial state where if the pay and conditions are better, the quality and comfort of the work bring equilibrium to the business. As we enter the next month on the SAG-WGA strike, this is still felt within Hollywood as the questions of AI, residuals, and writers’ rooms are still being fought with the next decade of streaming still looking to usurp up network TV spaces and movie theaters. Speaking of strikes, several movies internationally have used historical labor unrest as the scene for the film.

Strike! (1925)

Russian legend Sergei Eisenstein made his debut before his world-famous The Battleship Potemkin with this story about a factory in crisis with its workers revolting against the harsh realities. It begins with a quote by Vladimir Lenin: “The strength of the working class is organization. Without organization of the masses, the proletarian is nothing.” In its pro-socialist themes, episodes of the disruption set in 1900s Russia dissect the old ways of what it was like before the Revolution of 1917. Using Eisenstein’s Soviet montage theory, the action is pieced together for maximum effect to enlarge its power.  

The Organizer (1963)

Marcello Mastroianni stars as a labor union activist in 19th century Italy who arrives in the city of Turin to help complaining workers organize a strike and protest the long working hours and lack of safety. But Mario Monicelli’s tragic-comedy finds only disorganization amongst the group who only know about submission and the leader who is constantly on the run from the police. There is skepticism from all corners going into uncharted territory with the activist’s savvy confidence and the fear of physical reprisals the workers only know of. A happy ending is nowhere to be found. 

Tout Va Bien (1972)

In his period of radical filmmaking, Jean-Luc Godard brought Yves Montand and Jane Fonda on as a married journalist couple who cover a strike at a sausage factory. Still fueling himself from the events of May 1968, Godard creates a unique staging with the camera pulling back and showing all the rooms at the same time, using a Brectian technique from theater staging. With long takes, Godard is able to placate the struggle between the workers and the management, and the demand for social upheaval against the growing consumerism of 70s France.  

Norma Rae (1979)

Sally Field won her first Oscar as the titular character who leads a push to form a union in the factory where she works due to terrible working conditions. Loosely based on a real-life figure named Crystal Lee Sutton, Norma Rae is about fighting the system where they stubbornly refuse to make changes and see the renegade worker as a threat. The famous scene of Rae standing up with the word “Union” to the workers is the same as what happened in Sutton’s story, leading up to the unionizing of the factory.

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Movie Review: ‘Amerikatsi’ Brings Armenian Cinema to a New Audience


Director: Michael A. Goorjian
Writers: Michael A. Goorjian
Stars: Michael A. Goorjian, Hovik Keuchkerian, Nelli Uvarova

Synopsis: Charlie escapes the Armenian genocide as a boy by fleeing to the United States, but he returns as an adult and is arrested. He watches an Armenian couple from his prison cell, finally learning about his homeland.


During the lengthy period in which the Cold War raged on, the tensions between the Eastern Bloc and the Western Bloc figured prominently in a number of Hollywood blockbusters. For most, the slightly jingoistic action films of the 1980s serve as the most obvious example of anti-Soviet propaganda. Top Gun (1986) and Red Heat (1988) heavily emphasized the fact that Soviets were unemotional, robotic killing machines who lacked warmth and psychological depth. In thinking back on this period, we tend to forget about the light, fluffy comedies that attempted to view Soviet politics through a satirical lens. They were often guilty of presenting a somewhat glib analysis of the ideological and cultural differences that separate Americans from their Soviet counterparts but they serve as valuable socio-historical documents. In the modern day, the average American’s perception of post-Soviet states has radically altered, so it’s more than a little surprising to see a contemporary film that echoes the thematic concerns of Moscow on the Hudson (1985). 

In mounting a highly sentimental, feel-good comedy about the clash between American and Soviet Armenian culture, director Michael A. Goorjian must have known that he was out of step with the times. Here, he attempts to construct a delicate fable about a naïve American Charlie Bakchinyan (Michael A. Goorjian), who repatriates to Armenia in the wake of World War II. He has Armenian ancestors but his family was forced to flee Turkey during the Armenian Genocide. While in Armenia, he hopes to gain a deeper understanding of his cultural identity. He is placed in peril after befriending Sona (Nelli Uvarova), the wife of a powerful government official. As a result of this innocent flirtation, he is imprisoned on bogus charges. Initially, he responds to being isolated from the outside world by growing despondent. However, his spirits begin to improve when he realizes that he can observe the day-to-day life of a young couple living in an apartment that is located across the street from the prison. 

The plot of the film is pretty standard Hollywood fare but Goorjian makes an admirable effort to inject the story’s skeleton structure with dashes of Armenian dark humor. He casts himself as an archetypal wide-eyed American but finds room to complicate the binary between freedom-loving Americans and overly censorious Armenians. Most of the Armenian characters in the film are viewed through a sympathetic lens and while the film doesn’t offer up a sophisticated dissection of the political corruption that plagued Armenian society during this period, it thankfully avoids indulging in too many stereotypes. Then again, you can’t blame the viewers who yearn for a more dense, thematically complex picture, that might have included a more intellectually rigorous critique of Stalinist policies. 

Amerikatsi’s virtues really come to the fore during lengthy sequences in which Nerses Sedrakyan and Avet Tonoyants’s production design is allowed to take center stage. They have clearly taken great pains to accurately represent era-appropriate interior design trends and color schemes. One naturally assumes that they weren’t working with a massive budget, so it’s very impressive that they managed to invest every location featured in the film with so much texture and pathos. All of this effort also helps to infuse a relatively conventional plot with a much-needed personal touch. This sort of skilled craftsmanship is often undervalued and there is something appealing about the fact that the imagery in this film has a tactile, visceral quality that is missing from a lot of modern cinema. You can tell when something has been precisely constructed and the ‘little things’ really do play a role in elevating Amerikatsi beyond some of the limitations that typically hold period pieces back. 

There is also something to be said for the small scale that the film operates on, as Goorjian could never be accused of overstuffing the plot. The languid, measured pacing ensures that scenes play out in a naturalistic fashion and largely avoid straining for effect. He finds a delicate balance between mainstream comedy and culturally specific comedic references, without sacrificing the opportunity to jerk tears out of audience members. It’s not going to revolutionize Armenia cinema but it might go a long way in bringing elements of their national cinema to a wider audience. 

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Nandor Fodor and The Talking Mongoose’ is a Muddled Mess


Director: Adam Sigal
Writers: Adam Sigal
Stars: Simon Pegg, Minnie Driver, Christopher Lloyd

Synopsis: When famed paranormal psychologist Dr. Nandor Fodor investigates a family’s claim of a talking animal, he uncovers a mysterious web of hidden motives. Soon, everyone becomes a suspect in his relentless pursuit of the truth.


You know that a movie’s script is in trouble when the film’s title is the most eccentric part of the script. Based on a “true” story, Nandor Fodor and the Talking Mongoose is being promoted as a dark comedy, but after watching it, I wonder if they are describing the color of black they chose when printing the script. There’s simply nothing quirky, grim, weird, or even macabre about the picture other than the cruel trick of convincing critics and viewers alike to sit down and watch. 

Suppose that’s the case, then well done.

Simon Pegg stars as “famed” Dr. Nandor Fodor, a parapsychologist – he would make an excellent host on the Paranormal Reality Television Network – who investigates the events that go beyond the typical human scientific understanding. Pegg plays Fodor as courteous and kind, yet almost uncomfortable and socially awkward in nearly any human interaction, as you may suspect with any outcast. Due to this, Fodor lacks acceptance inside academic circles in this version.

Dr. Fodor has a colleague, Anna (Minnie Driver), who is his loyal confidant. The good professor has her read his mail with the ability to summarize anything in a few seconds. They come across a letter from the Irving family, who claims a talking mongoose and an adventure in the name of scientific discovery is born. Dr. Fodor and Anne head to Irving’s farm at Cashen’s Gap near Dalby on the Isle of Man to investigate. 

While this town would have benefited from the other invention of the television set, the main subject of Nandor Fodor and the Talking Mongoose is not uncommon in history. The phenomenon of speaking animals has been reported all the way back to ancient Egypt and ancient Greek fables. Writer and director Adam Sigal has taken a “true” story and wrote an original script as an homage to the events that occurred. 

However, Sigal’s script focuses on how the event affects the main characters, revealing what can be described as a stretch, “haunting” back stories like the last words Fodor’s father said to him. Yet, this is a single occurrence and unravels the professor. This would have been far more effective if this was a pattern to delve deeper into Fodor’s backstory, but that’s left unexplored. The same goes for Driver’s Anne, who does not explain why she’s a believer, which would have led to a sense of wonderment the film lacks.

Sigal’s is too straightforward for such an entertaining premise and only offers surface-level insight into character actions and behaviors. From the moment Fodor and Anne step into the tiny British Hamlet, the plot is obvious, and there’s no beard to keep the viewer guessing. 

This is a cynical view, which I admire, especially when the script has the paternal Irving practically push Fodor into a cave to discover by “chance” missing items around town or the fact their daughter is the most gifted ventriloquist since Darci Lynne, which is odd. And if you still haven’t put it together since you never get to see the mongoose in the first place, I admire your patience. 

I will take one thing back, though, since Anne claims the family is respected around town and is wealthy, so why would they make it up? Well, fame is addictive, and for that matter, can you ever have enough money? The premise is that the talking small terrestrial carnivore that may be real doesn’t offer enough weight to hang your hopes or interests when immersed in the experience.

If anything, the role is tailored by Pegg, who does what he can to make the role, at the very least. Driver is in the unforgiving role of a woman supporting the titular subject but isn’t afraid to speak her mind; a little bit of that dame character who’s a spitfire from the era. Finally, special attention should be paid to Jessica Balmer’s Voirrey, who is by far the most interesting character the film has to offer.

Nandor Fodor and the Talking Mongoose cannot figure out what type of movie it wants to be. Instead of focusing on making a movie with a bold and daring point of view, the focus is far too safe, and the result is a rather humdrum cinematic experience on multiple levels.

Grade: C-

Movie Review (Venice Film Festival 2023): ‘El Conde’ Needs More Horror Bite


Director: Pablo Larraín
Writers: Guillermo Calderón and Pablo Larraín
Stars: Alfredo Castro, Catalina Guerra, Paula Luchsinger

Synopsis: Centers on Augusto Pinochet who is not dead but an aged vampire. After living 250 years in this world, he has decided to die once and for all.


Pablo Larraín reimagines Augusto Pinochet as a sullen 250-year-old vampire in the horror satire El Conde, which sounds like an intriguing premise that might lead to metaphorical riches. However, rather unfortunately, the film never uses its satirical and vampiric forces to its full potential, opting to use its premise as its main gateway rather than saying something new about the topic at hand. 

Chilean cinema has been on the rise recently, with names like Manuela Martelli, Maite Alberdi, Hugo Covarrubias, and Sebastián Lelio being notable and highly acclaimed. However, the one leading the pack is Pablo Larraín. Beginning his career and giving great first impressions by making dramatic political features that explored Chile’s government and life under harsh rule, Larraín made a big name for himself. He seems fascinated by history’s draining past and hopeful future, hence his recent focus on dream-like and nightmare-bound pictures centered around historical figures, such as Jackie and Spencer. However, Larraín is somewhat switching gears for his latest piece of work, El Conde, where he takes satire and horror into a pot and mixes them with his usual storytelling trademarks. While a couple of elements work exceptionally well on paper, its execution is less than the sum of its parts. 

With the satirical El Conde, Pablo Larraín seeks to play with what we know about two unforgivable figures in history; one of them is Augusto Pinochet, and the other is the person who guides us through this tale via narration, later to have an appearance that serves as a final (and unfunny) blow in the comedic strands of this film. The Chilean filmmaker doesn’t want to be realistic or even pinpoint accurate in its depictions. But instead, he wants to do so in its messaging and metaphors. Larraín reimagines the cruel and heartless dictator as a sullen 250-year-old vampire that, after decades roaming around the world and ruining everything he touches, wants to plunge himself into the final slumber. And, of course, the comparison between the aforementioned general and the blood-sucking beast is immediately recognizable as unduly “on the nose”. He feeds on the blood of the innocent to keep himself alive. Yet, it is absorbing enough to get us interested in this history play, at least on paper. 

The titular count (played by Jaime Vadell) wallows through his deserted housing, lamenting his immortality as a fanged creature. The estate is supposed to be his version of Dracula’s mansion in Transylvania. Still, the location is a grimy dump without any sense of life, contrasting with the beautiful black-and-white and shadow-centered cinematography by Edward Lachman. This showcases how the man has sold his soul to gain power and riches, ransacking everything he could for his benefit. However, a deal with the devil is a double-edged sword, hence why he now lives in isolation and grue, only having his occasional flights to the town as a form of escape – and even that depresses him even more because he sees that the country hasn’t “acknowledged” his “great” actions. Larraín sneaks in a cheeky, darkly comedic joke about the count going to the presidential palace to see if they have built a statue of him. 

After seeing him suffering and lying in his bed, you may think that the director might hint at adding some sympathy toward the count. But there’s no such care for this detestable and depraved man. What’s really at stake here is that Pinochet’s five children come to visit him after rumors that someone is stealing the hearts of young women across Chile. Things start to dwindle when they realize that their father’s loyal butler, Fyodor (Alfredo Castro), might be hiding some secrets of his own, as well as the inclusion of a young nun, Carmencita (Paula Luschsinger, who rocks facial resemblance and hairstyle to Renée Jeanne Falconetti’s in The Passion of Joan of Arc – with facial expressions and all), is seducing her father, when she was supposed to do an exorcism on him. This confrontation between father, kin, and associates turns into an even more satire-dependent episode of Succession, although without the nuisance and sharp witty writing the series has. 

It is a game of chess, none of them purposefully being in 3D because they fear what might happen if they cross the line; they just want a taste of that money and treasures that Pinochet has stored. Now, everything I have just described sounds like the concoction of polished and fascinating satire that has more bite than the fangs of its lead character. However, and rather unfortunately, the opposite happens. After seeing much of his work, I know that Larraín has the gift to provide a sharp story about similar topics, as he has done before in No (2012) and Neruda (2016). Because of his focus on the premise, instead of moving the story along, El Conde never reaches its vampiric and satirical possibilities. Saying that it is heavy on premise is an understatement; nothing much happens in the film, but there’s still an excessive amount of details being thrown at us both by Larraín’s visual language and the narration. 

Larraín wants to get out everything he can from that fundamental idea of having Pinochet as a loathing vampire that there’s not much room yet to add substance to this tale. Many metaphors and juxtapositions are tossed around from left to right, yet they arrive with zero subtlety or ambiguity; everything is entirely in your face. The biggest issue isn’t the lack of perspicacity in each topic and its central farcical gag. It is that this high-concept play on historical figures doesn’t have anything new to say about Pinochet and how life was in the country during his reign of terror, mainly when the feature-film debut of Manuela Martelli, Chile ‘76, released earlier this year – whose opening scene alone contains more depth that the first hour or so of El Conde

In addition, for Larraín’s first foray into horror, he needs much work to make the images and the atmosphere more gripping. He may deliver some shocking and provocative scenes that a satire should have. However, I don’t believe he nailed the essence and appeal of what makes films within that genre great. While everything looks splendid, what happens doesn’t have a more profound sensation of dread and angst that makes you want to be interested in the violence of stealing beating hearts or the satirical irony of its comedic quips. 

Grade: C

Movie Review (Venice Film Festival 2023): ‘Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person’ Lacks Any Real Depth


Director: Ariane Louis-Seize
Writers: Christine Doyon and Ariane Louis-Seize
Stars: Sara Montpetit, Noémie O’Farrell, Félix-Antoine Bénard

Synopsis: Sasha is a young vampire with a serious problem: she’s too sensitive to kill. When her exasperated parents cut off her blood supply, Sasha’s life is in jeopardy. Luckily, she meets Paul, a lonely teenager with suicidal tendencies who is willing to give his life to save hers. But their friendly agreement soon becomes a nocturnal quest to fulfill Paul’s last wishes before day breaks.


Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person uses a 2000s indie drama-comedy mold to tell its story about a vampiric entity meeting a lonesome teenager willing to give up his life to save another. But that same mold it uses as a backbone makes Ariane Louis-Seize’s debut feature lose the sense of identity and uniqueness that arrives with its fascinating title. 

Vampirism is back on the big screen and pop culture after a long hiatus induced by people tired of the Twilight franchise (which isn’t as bad as most people say – they deserve some kind of reexamination). In recent years, you have seen more and more projects that involve vampirism, and that’s without counting the ones in pre-production (or that will be released later in the year), like Pablo Larraín’s El Conde, Chloe Zhao’s Dracula, and Robert Eggers’ Nosferatu. This year alone, there have been more films about vampires than I would have imagined coming into the year. Although some weren’t that good, some even turned out as awful horror pictures), I still appreciate that the classic blood-sucking beast is appearing more often on the big screen in various forms. 

Another has made its way through the fall festival circuit, Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person, taking an indie drama-comedy form to tell its vampirism tale, much like Warm Bodies did for zombies. Premiering at the Venice Film Festival, Ariane Louis-Seize’s directorial debut goes for the deadpan comedic jugular rather than delving into the bloody mayhem or high-action-centered sequences. Instead, it serves as a conversation about life, death, and loneliness while somewhat defying some of the regularly seen vampire tropes due to its modern setting. The film begins on a weird and unexpected note; a family is celebrating the birthday of one of their daughters, Sasha, by gifting her a piano, which she plays without missing a note. And it is her first time touching one and a clown doing a magic performance. It is hard to pinpoint the film’s tone exactly, whether we should laugh or cringe. 

But one line on the three-minute mark gives us the clue that matches its title: “I can’t take this anymore. When do we eat him?” The family is eager to kill the clown and suck his blood. But the young girl is hesitant to do so; she is scarred by the whole thing, which gives her PTSD – her fangs haven’t arrived because of this. Her parents talk to plenty of psychiatrists (and psychologists) to help their daughter, but to no avail. Sasha can’t seem to shake off the image of a dead human body. A few years later, we see that Sasha (now played by Sara Montpetit) still plays the piano, doing so on the streets for some quick cash and living with her parents. 

Sasha continues her defiance against killing, even if it means that she dies because of starvation. Her parents are supplying her with the daily blood supply. But time is running out; she isn’t going to be living with them for the entirety of their lives, nor will they be able to provide as time passes by. That’s when they decided to cut Sasha off and force their daughter to move in with her sister Denise (Noémie O’Farrell), who doesn’t give out free samples of the crimson red unless someone helps her with the “dirty job” of finding, and eventually killing, a random person. Of course, Sasha doesn’t want to do so; she even interrupts one of Denise’s hunts by blasting the car’s horn. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Sasha is starving for blood and doesn’t know what to do. 

Eventually, Sasha ends up in a suicide prevention group to express her feelings about the matter to an unknowing group. There, she meets the person who is potentially changing her life, a young kid who would deliberately sacrifice his life to save another’s, Paul (Félix-Antoine Bénard) – a desolate teenager with suicidal tendencies. They make a friendly agreement to seal the deal. However, Sasha believes that before she bites his neck and relieves the pain he has been bottling up for years, she must fulfill some of Paul’s last wishes. This setup leads the vampire and the teenager on a journey to help Paul leave a mark on the world before the deepest sleep. Throughout their journey, individually and collectively, the duo encountered a couple of scenarios that help them reflect on their ongoing situations. 

Sasha and Paul’s dynamic is obviously weird given the circumstances under which they meet and considering that the former is a vampire. However, both of them are quite similar on the inside. They are two meandering lost souls who, for one reason or another, are devoid of life. The film doesn’t give them many moments in which they could find themselves, or their place in the world, together. It is focused more on separate contemplation. This loosens the effect of their slowly building relationship, even with the occasionally charming moments where they connect with one another through similar emotions about loneliness, death, and fractured family dynamics. 

Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person (a great title that gets everyone’s attention) has been prepared and tuned in a mid-2000s indie drama-comedy mold, specifically those that center around two lonely people. Think about films like Igby Goes Down, Broken Flowers, or Garden State, but instead, one of the leads is a vampire who doesn’t want to kill, and the other is a suicidal teenager. While Louis-Seize plays with vampire tropes and cliches a bit in her debut film, making a killer beast into a humanist, she doesn’t do the same with the film’s structure and plot development. She uses the aforementioned films, as well as her own preoccupations with death, as inspiration to help her construct the backbone of this story. However, those same inspirations cause this vampire movie to lose the tremendous identity of its unique title. It causes each beat to be handled in ways that make you think about ten other films that came before it. 

That precisely isn’t a complete deal breaker, as you get some equally funny and pleasant moments with Sara Monpetit’s leading character. But you get the sensation that when it comes to developing the film’s ideas, it comes out rather vague – the movie’s focus inclining toward the aesthetic of a vampire picture rather than its themes. While my desire for a more in-depth conversation about the burden of immortality that vampires face (and its intertwining with a person seeking help in a world that doesn’t want to) might have affected my anticipation for what Humanist Vampire Seeking Consenting Suicidal Person offered in the grand scheme of things, I still believe that beneath the surface of its indie drama-comedy mold, there’s a more profound and endearing film. 

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘You Are So Not Invited To My Bat Mitzvah’ is a Sweet Sandler Affair


Director: Sammi Cohen
Writers: Alison Peck and Fiona Rosenbloom
Stars: Idina Menzel, Jackie Sandler, Adam Sandler

Synopsis: It follows Stacey Friedman as she prepares for her Bat Mitzvah, but her plans comedically unravel and threaten to ruin the event.


Did Adam Sandler buy his kids a movie instead of throwing them a Bat Mitzvah? I have a soft spot for films starring Adam Sandler under the Happy Madison brand. For one, the Sandman is so loyal to his friends and colleagues that he creates scripts and productions based on beach locales for an extended holiday. Sandler consistently hires and casts friends and family in roles, keeping them in the black for decades, not to mention lead roles for Spade and Schneider. He even has faith in his nephew, who has directed a couple of films from time to time.

I’m not saying these men and women aren’t worthy or untalented. In fact, far from it. (I refuse to be another critic to kick Schneider back to the ground.) However, when Sandler cast his children in lead roles in his latest comedy, You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah, I was worried for the sole reason that the Gen Z/Millennial cinephile would unleash a snark cannon on some defenseless teenagers. Yet, to my mild surprise, not only do the Sandler girls hold their own, but they practically shine.

Adapted from the Fiona Rosenbloom YA novel of the same name, the story follows Stacey Friedmann (Sunny Sandler), a young woman on the verge of the biggest day of her adolescent life: her Bat Mitzvah. It’s such a big deal in her eyes that she creates a presentation, with the help of her best friend Lydia (Samantha Lorraine), for Stacey’s parents, Bree (Idina Menzel) and Danny (Adam Sandler), to convince them they need to increase their budget.

How? By using her college tuition to book an international recording artist, Olivia Rodrigo, on a jet ski and some “old guy,” her dad would like to make her plan seem like a bargain (she’s referring to Sir Paul McCartney). Bree’s sister Ronnie (Sadie Sandler) smiles, and the Friedmans laugh. Still, they don’t understand—how else is Stacey supposed to get the Jewish high school bubby heartthrob, Andy Goldfarb (Dylan Hoffman), to ignore the “hideous” sequined dress her mom bought her, so he’ll make out with her on the dance floor. While at the same time, everyone busts a move on the dance floor to the hora?

It’s a delightful premise and a rite of passage. Watching You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah creates the type of humor you smile at when experience looks upon naive youth. Director Sammi Cohen captures and fills the source material with youthful exuberance and quirky adult characters who selflessly try to guide the next generation into making mature and positive decisions.

Working with a script by Alison Peck, Cohen captures something honest and refreshing about Stacey and Lydia, always acting their age and never stretching too dramatically outside their comfort zone. The way the girls are “twinning” in the film’s first act—crushing on boys, embarrassed by their parents, comparing themselves to others—and how their clique is lively, creative, caring, and intensely secretive.

Of course, you have your coming-of-age clichés, including Stacey’s crush liking Lydia, and most of the movie’s second half begins to feel like a revenge tale. Everything plays out as you think, and there’s no way it won’t end with anything other than “chicks before,” well, “Richards.” Distracting you from those tropes are well-timed supporting scenes from the paternal Sandler, who goes to a movie in public in a bathrobe and sleeps on a bench while his daughter tries on dresses. I also found Sadie Sandler’s Ronnie, the perfect snarky “too cool for school” teen, and the jabs at her father very funny. SNL’s Sarah Sherman is endearing, juggling amusing quirks and unbridled passion for her students.

You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah has its heart in storytelling akin to Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret, with a sweet ’80s adolescent comedy vibe with dashes of the Sandman’s comedic sensibilities. You’ll even spot some Judd Apatow’s poignant moments, particularly in family scenes at home. 

Yes, the movie is a tad too long; any scenes with Luis Guzmán could have been left off without much complaint. The ending is sweet but sappy for this critic by ignoring the fragile nature of relationships. Yet, it’s a sweet Sandler family affair. You Are So Not Invited to My Bat Mitzvah has a good message that will amuse parents familiar with their relatable child misfits and teenagers, connecting with the exaggerated coming-of-age themes.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Bottoms’ Embraces The Weird


Director: Emma Seligman
Writers: Emma Seligman and Rachel Sennott
Stars: Rachel Sennott, Ayo Edibiri, Ruby Cruz

Synopsis: Two unpopular queer high school students start a fight club to have sex before graduation.


Yes, Bottoms slaps, punches, claws, cuts, and maims in ways that will leave bite marks with sharp teeth. This Emma Seligman comedy refuses to place itself in a box, going beyond its standard satirical tropes within its premise. It’s a teen comedy that blends Horatian and Juvenalian satire, transforming into something unexpected and invigorating. Notably, it’s a wicked commentary on victimization and socialization.

The story follows two unpopular best friends, PJ (Rachell Sennott) and Josie (Ayo Edebiri), who have been cruelly shunned by their classmates, and even school officials, for not being as popular as other students. They have been best friends since their moms split the bill for babysitters, relying on each other through thick and thin.

Both PJ and Josie are gay, and their high school crushes, Isabel (Havana Rose Liu) and Brittany (Kaia Gerber), hardly interact with them, to the point where they might not even know they exist. That is until Isabel walks away from her star quarterback boyfriend, Jeff (Nicholas Galitzine), who constantly has a wandering eye and cheats on her with a refined group of older women.

Jeff becomes an obstacle when they give Isabel a ride, and the car barely grazes his knee, but he claims a serious physical injury just before the big rivalry game. Principal Meyers (Wayne Pere) is ready to expel them, conveniently ignoring that they were offering Isabel a safe ride. He claims they are starting a school club that teaches other teenage girls self-defense. Meyers tells them to “beat the shit out of each other while reading the Vagina Monologues” and sends them on their way.

Bottoms was written by Seligman and one of the film’s stars, Rachel Sennott, the director’s frequent writing partner, and all-around muse. The talented and versatile actress excels at embracing unlikable roles and winning over audiences with authentic portrayals of the exaggerated misbehaviors of teenage or young adult females. Sennott was born to play the star of an independent cringe-comedy.

From her portrayal of a young Jewish female caught between her sugar daddy and girlfriend at a funeral in Shiva Baby to her almost methodical techniques as the maddeningly annoying Gen-Z teenager in Bodies Bodies Bodies, Sennott embraces assertive behavioral imperfections. Her role in Bottoms brims with temerity, and her attitude is so full of piss and vinegar that you might fear she’d spin uncontrollably off her axis. Sennott has a mean streak in virtually all of her performances that is inherently magnetic.

The Bear’s Ayo Edebiri’s character serves as the film’s conscience, consistently thinking that starting a female fight club to meet girls is a wrong, if not hilarious, idea. Edebiri expertly delivers timeless deadpan deliveries, showcased in full display in Bottoms. She captures the sympathetic sweet spot for the gay, sexually oppressed female teenager who feels trapped as an outcast. If anything, Josie is the most submissive of the group.

Bottoms offers a fresh take on teen comedy, similar to how Assassination Nation shook up the teen horror genre. While some might playfully call it “Gay Fight Club” or “Not Another Gay Teen Movie,” Seligman and Sennett’s film both embraces and satirizes those film tropes, creating something wonderfully invigorating for a modern-day teen comedy, culminating in its shockingly brash and brutally dark comedic finale.

And this is what makes Bottoms such original comedic content. Furthermore, Marshawn Lynch’s classroom, where he credits feminism, was invented by a man, and his students stand in a cell tucked away in a corner. The way Nicholas Galitzine presents himself as a chaser of the Gen X tale or Miles Fowler’s Tim embodies the coming-of-age teen villain. They accept these women only after contributing to the overall toxicity problem that the film turns its critical eye toward.

Bottoms is perfectly encapsulated by a line near the film’s beginning in which the announcement over the loudspeaker states, “Could the ugly, untalented gays, please report to the principal’s office?” The line isn’t just a microcosm of the deliberately wild and zany takes on victimization; it also reflects how harshly judges often lack the maturity to be true to themselves. A case in point is that some choose labels, or in this case, uniforms, to fit the idea of what society wants them to be, which explains why the male villains never take off their high school football uniforms.

Bottoms embraces that awkward, authentic freakiness of high school self, venturing into the wild side even for the most fervently absurd—a hilarious and distinctive comedy with facetious humor for the modern, audacious teenage female.

No matter the orientation.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Golda’ Squeezes Out Every Ounce of Drama


Director: Guy Nattiv
Writer: Nicholas Martin
Stars: Helen Mirren, Zed Josef, Claudette Williams

Synopsis: Focuses on the intensely dramatic and high-stakes responsibilities and decisions that Golda Meir, also known as the ‘Iron Lady of Israel’ faced during the Yom Kippur War..


Golda is an exceptional historical drama that unfolds like a tightly wound political thriller and showcases a virtuoso performance by Helen Mirren in the titular role. Of course, I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know. However, the film leads to a stunning scene between Golda Meir and Henry Kissinger (the outstanding Liev Schreiber), which might be one of the year’s best.

Around the 72-minute mark, after ignoring the mighty United States’ pleas for a cease-fire, primarily related to oil price increases, Mirren unloads a demand on Schreiber’s Kissinger that sends shivers down the spine and raises the hairs on your arms. “You must decide, Henry, side with me, or I will create an army of orphans and widows, and I will slaughter them all. Whose side are you on? You must choose.”

For a fan of the genre or a historical junkie, it’s as riveting a scene as you may see all year. Never before has the red handset being slammed back into its base reverberated more with anticipation of dire consequences. Even for the Soviet Union and the United States, who were squeezing the first and only female Prime Minister of Israel into a ceasefire, these two superpowers were no match for a weathered and chain-smoking old Jewish bitty in sturdy orthopedic shoes.

Directed by Academy Award winner Guy Nattiv, Golda follows the controversial political figure over a 21-day period in 1973, which involved Meir’s Israel and the Arab states led by Egypt and Syria. (Yes, the war lasted 19 days, but the film covers a few days after the conflict “officially” ended.) Meir had the impossible task of preventing her country’s all but certain annihilation.

That’s because she and her citizens were stuck between several rocks and hard places from different angles. For one, Israel and Meir were just not fighting the war with the heavily armed Arab nations. For one, the threat of Soviet involvement was always lingering. In a political chess match, Meir continually attempts to involve the United States, despite Kissinger’s objections because the United States must remain neutral because of its dependence on foreign oil.

Golda was written by Florence Foster Jenkins’ scribe Nicholas Martin, and his script is brilliantly paced while juggling multiple storylines about how the war affects people abroad and at home. Most of the film is told on numerous fronts. For instance, when in Meir’s house, she shows a vulnerable side with her assistant as she suffers from chronic and debilitating physical ailments. Another,  which is the film’s central narrative, goes back and forth to her tribunal, deciding if her decisions were indeed lawful.

Another from the political offices and makeshift war room went over political strategies, displaying the strength and creativity most political figures could only dream of possessing. Finally, involving what is possibly the film’s most visually stunning scene, a military operation bunker, where Meir has to make choices that even Sophie would find herself running away from.

And this is where the marriage of page to screen between Nattiv, Martin, Mirren, and the director of photography Jasper Wolf’s gorgeously claustrophobic and intimate cinematography becomes harmonious cinema. You can practically feel the cloud of smoke Meir blows in the camera’s face as she listens in real-time to the demise of the Israeli soldiers she deploys into all but certain ominous outcomes.

The way Martin’s script layers themes of anxiety at home, where Meir is constantly aware from the stenographer’s mood as she has a loved one involved in the fight, circles back to a devastatingly effective scene—Mirren’s delivery of astute and enlightening political observations like “Knowing when you lost is easy; knowing when you won is hard,” and “Just remember all political careers end in failure.”

Many claim that Golda can be putting it politely, dry, or even dull. While that’s understandable, this is a film with a limited budget. The team here squeezes every ounce they can with the funding and story available to them. And while the criticisms of casting Mirren as a Jewish hero and icon are legitimate, it’s hard to argue how Mirren inhabits the real-life figure’s weathered mind, body, and soul.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Jules’ Feels Incomplete


Director: Marc Turtletaub
Writer: Gavin Steckler
Stars: Ben Kingsley, Harriet Sansom Harris, Jane Curtin

Synopsis: Milton lives a quiet life of routine in a small western Pennsylvania town, but finds his day upended when a UFO and its extra-terrestrial passenger crash land in his backyard.


The “Baby Boomers” are the most significant labor force cohort in the United States, so movies tailored for the age range of 57 to 75 will never go away any time soon. The AARP genre of films has become popular of late. From the Book Club franchise, Going in Style, and Poms, these movies are designed to take the family’s matriarch to a show on Mother’s Day Sunday matinee.

While most of these films offer a pleasant way to spend a lazy afternoon, if that’s your thing, the best ones have some underlying thematic value regarding a generation’s worth, not only appreciated but the need that our elders have to offer.

Unfortunately, Jules offers very little in that department, which is a shame considering the talent involved, including a legendary lead, two respected comedic character actors, and a director whose feature film debut, Puzzle, was an unexpected gem. Sadly, this science-fiction comedy lacks imagination beyond its one-note joke.

Directed by Marc Turtletaub, Jules tells the story of Milton (Ben Kingsley), an older adult, quietly living out his life watching endless episodes of CSI reruns on basic cable in a small Western Pennsylvania town. He’s estranged from his son, and his daughter is worried about him since he leaves newspapers in the freezer and a can of vegetables in the bathroom medicine cabinet. 

Milton’s significant daily activity is going down to the community center to propose changing the town’s slogan to the political leaders into something grammatically correct, and he’s not the only one. That includes Sandy (Harriet Harris), who wants to propose community outreach so she can connect with the younger generation. 

We also have the neighborhood busybody, Joyce (Jane Curtin), who’s worried about how her fellow older adults present themselves but fails to understand that her abrasiveness pushes people away. However, that is all about to change when an alien spaceship crashes into the back of Milton’s rural property, and they meet an extraterrestrial who goes by Jules.

Jules was written by Gavin Steckler, whose most significant contribution to film and television was the USA Network series Playing House. And that sums up my experience with the film—it feels like a pilot for the easy-going and breezy network that was never produced. Steckler’s script offers a buddy concept and some mildly odd escapism that’s light-hearted and approachable. Yet, while the script does generate some empathy and relatability, the interaction never reinforces the film’s themes to produce deeper, more profound outcomes and develop the characters in significant ways that are desperately needed.

Yes, Jules has some lovely moments, such as how Kingsley portrays Milton’s warm nature. I am also thrilled that Harris has a significant role here. The veteran character actress, best known for being the hilarious, no-morals agent Bebe Glazer on Frasier and the doomed wife of Sammy in Memento, is the film’s emotional center.

Harris is involved in the picture’s best scene. However, to justify my issue with the film’s uneven mix, it combines an odd, out-of-place solo rendition of “Free Bird” with Curtin’s Joyce. Finally, when the film builds to the script’s payoff, the finale must be more varied, and the final 15 minutes feel needlessly lengthy. Not only are the connections between the three main subjects never established, none are made outside their bubble. The emotional void between the trio is as vast as space itself.

Jules has its heart in the right place for all intents and purposes, but very little is accomplished with a film that is less than 90 minutes long. Along with the film’s lack of a complete third act, this comedy does little to no favors in terms of exploring what makes life worth living.

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘Blue Beetle’ is Full of Heart and Standard Comic Book Fare


Director: Angel Manuel Soto
Writer: Gareth Dunnet-Alcocer
Stars: Xolo Ramirez, Susan Sarandon, Adriana Barraza

Synopsis: An alien scarab chooses college graduate Jaime Reyes to be its symbiotic host, bestowing the teenager with a suit of armor that’s capable of extraordinary and unpredictable powers, forever changing his destiny as he becomes the superhero known as Blue Beetle.


Blue Beetle is another frustrating superhero outing for Detective Comics, which finds enough heart in the community of characters folding into a comic book movie that follows the genre playbook step by step. A one-note villain, check. A magnetic lead in love with a drop-dead gorgeous love interest caught up in a plot that has worldwide consequences, check. A few supporting characters who are as well-rounded and three-dimensional as a couple of Flatheads, check. But hell, at least they are a lot of fun. And that’s what makes the fresh premise of a Mexican-American superhero finally gracing the silver screen such a frustratingly mixed bag of potential and uninspired storytelling.

The story follows Jaime Reyes (Xolo Ramirez), a recent pre-law graduate who is the first in his family to earn a college degree. Returning home to a hero’s welcome, his family celebrates his return. That’s until his sister Milagro (Belissa Escobedo) breaks some bad news to him: They are losing the house, and the family business went bankrupt because his father, Alberto (Damián Alcázar), suffered a heart attack. Jaime’s mother, Rocio (Elpidia Carrillo), and his beloved Nana (Adriana Barraza) felt strongly that it would have been a distraction to his education if they broke the terrible news.

Jaime vows to lift his family out of this predicament. He lands an interview with Kord Industries, a multinational research and development corporation specializing in military defense, after a chivalrous happenstance with Jenny (Bruna Marquezine), a beautiful young twenty-something and Kord’s CEO. Jenny’s father left her the company and disappeared mysteriously, to the ire of her Aunt Victoria (Susan Sarandon), who saw Kord as her life’s work. That’s when Jenny discovers Victoria has begun redeveloping defense weapons again, something the principles of her father were dead set against.

While investigating, Jenny finds Victoria possessing the Scarab, an ancient relic of alien technology. While trying to escape with the artifact, she hands it off to Jaime, who is waiting for his interview. Jaime violates the one instruction she gave him by not opening the box. The Scarab doesn’t attack when he does but instead becomes a part of him. Jaime transforms into the Blue Beetle against his will. But, as we know, if you live by the code of Community’s Jeff Winger, you don’t choose to be a hero. It’s thrust upon you.

I was excited when I read Angel Manuel Soto would helm Blue Beetle. Indeed, the director of the hidden gem Charm City Kings would find the subculture and that particular “thing” that makes this comic book hero ring true. And for the most part, he does this by offering a warm, big-hearted, Latinx “familismo” lens to view the iconic DC hero. This is portrayed with love and affection between the characters, particularly the father-son relationship that gives the dynamic its heart. Mirroring that sentiment is Marquezine’s Jenny, who never had a warm embrace growing up. Jaime also proposes using his superpowers to protect his family, but never by lethal force, freeing the film from stereotypes.

Written by Gareth Dunnet-Alcocer, Blue Beetle, at times, has horror film elements that are reminiscent of Venom. For instance, when the Scarab takes over Ramirez’s Jaime, this can be viewed as a form of reincarnation. The scene is graphic (and the reactions of the family members vary to the point where they seem out of place) and even terrifying. This mix, particularly at the film’s end, gives the Blue Beetle an uneven experience. Even if these scenes have an infusion of retro 80s movie-era homage, that works. 

The script also has thinly veiled characters, particularly the villains, with Sarandon being a one-note cliché. While the villainous muscle, Carapax (Raoul Max Trujillo), earns a backstory, the payoff is rushed and more than predictable. Also, the script never delves deep enough into the backstories of Jaime’s family. For instance, George Lopez serves as the film’s comic relief; he’s hilarious here, but we never learn enough about why and how he’s such an IT expert and the Lucius Fox of the film. The same goes for Academy Award nominee Adriana Barraza. Her character is a kick-ass grandma fighting Victoria’s super soldiers alongside Jaime, indicating her former participation as a revolutionary out of nowhere. Too many characters feel incomplete for over a two-hour movie, and the story would have benefited dramatically from greater care and context.

And those aren’t strikes against the film’s narrative of a hero born of love instead of overwhelming trauma, but against a standard comic book formula that doesn’t take enough chances. This is strange, with this being James Gunn’s first significant decision in his new role as the DCEU’s managing puppet master. Why would a man who took enormous risks that revitalized Marvel with the Guardians franchise double down on formulaic superhero cliches? While the Blue Beetle has plenty of heart and a fresh perspective, the villains and the heroes are a forgettable blend of standard comic book fare that’s never as interesting as the movie’s relaxed, warm, and loving scenes where this DC film lives.

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘Strays’ is Super Sweet and Sour


Director: Josh Greenbaum
Writer: Don Perrault
Stars: Will Ferrell, Jamie Foxx, Isla Fisher

Synopsis: An abandoned dog teams up with other strays to get revenge on his former owner.


Are we in the new golden age of the hard-R-rated summer comedy? From Jennifer Lawrence’s uproarious and raunchy No Hard Feelings to Adele Lim’s racy and hilarious Joy Ride, there has been a newfound wave of foul-mouthed comedies to enjoy. Some of these films’ best scenes would make Porky’s Bob Clark blush. This August, we have Strays, a hilarious comedy featuring some of the most adorable little dogs you’ll ever see and showcasing some of the dirtiest deeds in cinema history—all with an underlying theme that surprisingly hits home with that old cliché of a lot of heart. These super sweet yet seriously sour antics of these Strays are filled with filthy, gut-busting, leg-humping hilarity.

The story follows Reggie (Will Ferrell), a “woof”-fully optimistic mixed breed unaware of his toxic pet-owner relationship with Doug (Will Forte). Doug is the kind of lowlife who blames his substance abuse, laziness, and lousy situation on his dog. He repeatedly attempts to abandon Reggie in the middle of nowhere by throwing his tennis ball out of the truck and driving off while Reggie gives chase. However, Reggie interprets it as a game of “Fetch & F*ck” and always manages to bring the toy back to Doug’s feet, where he says the titular latter word.

Finally, Doug has had enough and takes Reggie into the ominous city, where he becomes acquainted with the freaks and geeks of the bustling city streets. Among them is a Boston Terrier with a gift of the gab named Bug (Jamie Foxx), who teaches Reggie how to survive on his own. Bug introduces Reggie to more stray dogs like Maggie (Isla Fisher), an Australian Shepherd, and Hunter (Randall Park), an enormous Great Dane with a small dick energy despite the obvious heat he’s packing. The sexual tension between Maggie and Hunter is undeniable. Finally realizing Doug doesn’t care about him, the group embarks on a road trip to visit Doug so Reggie can, in his own words, “Bite his dick off.” Yes, like I said, a foul-mouthed comedy.

Written by Dan Perrault and directed by Josh Greenbaum, Strays has a big, ferocious bite that most comedies can only dream of. The film features dirty yet heartfelt and outrageously funny debauchery from some of the most adorable pooches you will ever see. Strays can be seen as a loquacious take on Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey, but with abundant sex, copious amounts of drugs, and free-flowing alcohol. Given Hollywood’s penchant for transforming simple stories into unnecessarily sentimental narratives — a phenomenon that might soon be dubbed “The Tuohy Effect” — it’s almost as if Strays presents what the 1993 family film was truly like before the greedy little money-grubbing mouse got his hands on the script.

Part of the fun of what makes Strays so funny is watching the juxtaposition of these hellhounds, equipped with heart-swelling puppy love expressions, doing bad things—very bad things. Almost every joke works famously, from a jaw-dropping camp-side “pillow” fight to a priceless and well-timed Miley Cyrus needle drop and a wicked take on Marley & Me. And the ones that don’t land are so audacious and bold that you forgive Greenbaum and Perrault solely because of their effort.

Much of the credit should go to Ferrell and Fox, whose styles seemingly shouldn’t blend but create a joyous combination of sweet and sour. Ferrell dives back into that Elf persona with a humorous, deadpan, and naïve delivery. This allows Fox’s garrulous and spunky Boston Terrier to steal nearly every scene he’s in. Delivering humor while also conveying the film’s sharp wit and an insightful take on male toxicity, Bug’s spin-off isn’t just a request but a matter of time. You’ll also appreciate the humor generated from Park’s Hunter and Fisher’s Maggie for their numerous risqué and suggestive double entendres.

Frankly, Strays reminds me of the type of comedy The Farrelly Brothers used to make in the 90s. Similar to those movies, they had an underlying human (work with me here) element. Here, Perrault finds something sobering regarding victimization in a surprisingly profound scene when Reggie convinces himself that Doug loves him. Yes, it involves a mutt with a tennis ball, but that moment reveals more about the catch-22 in domestic violence, and is more insightful than most films.

Ultimately, Reggie carrying Doug’s blame-shifting leads to Greenbaum’s canine opus—a relatable sense of community, family, and finding your place in life—which still supports the film’s hard comedic edge. Sure, it may not make sense why Hunter has a medical cone if he’s a stray or that Doug is such an over-the-top deadbeat that no woman in her right mind would have him, let alone for one night. However, Strays is damn funny and pushes the envelope farther than I thought possible.

Strays is a loquacious Homeward Bound and the super sweet yet seriously sour antics of these pooches are filled with filthy, gut-busting, leg-humping hilarity.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘The Monkey King’ is Beautiful and Empty


Director: Anthony Stacchi
Writers: Steve Bencich, Ron J. Friedman, and Rita Hsiao
Stars: Jimmy O. Yang, Bowen Yang, BD Wong

Synopsis: Inspired by an epic Chinese tale, translated into an action-packed comedy, a Monkey and his magical fighting Stick battle demons, dragons, gods and the greatest adversary of all – Monkey’s ego.


*This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the movie being covered here wouldn’t exist.*

Though quite unsuccessfully, Netflix has been trying to get into the animation game for a long time. It’s only when they’ve plucked films from other studios (The Mitchells vs. The Machines & Nimona) or when they team up with an actual auteur behind the camera (Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio) that they can succeed in the game. But they’ve never delivered something tangible when delving into studio-driven animated offerings. However, since they wanted to dominate all spheres of filmmaking, it was only a matter of time before they would take a crack at making another mainstream animated film in The Monkey King

Based on “Journey to the West,” the movie will hit the streaming service on August 18th. I had a chance to check out The Monkey King in theaters, and this is where it deserves to be experienced. Rarely have I seen such mastery in its visual form, it would feel shameful not to bask in its vivid kineticism on the largest screen possible. The animation style is consistently malleable, going from bright, colorful 3D worlds, morphing into hand-drawn animation as the titular Monkey King (Jimmy O. Yang) defeats 99 demons in a terrific montage, and goes back to 3D with notable changes in its form as it transports audiences from one world to the next. 

There’s even a setpiece that feels directly plucked out of CAPCOM’s Ōkami, set in Hell, where different brush techniques are used to unleash a superpower to subdue The Monkey King. It’s one of the most inspired action scenes I’ve seen in an animated film all year and consistently moves in exciting and fresh ways. The final fight between The Monkey King and The Dragon King (Bowen Yang) is incredible. Director Anthony Stacchi continuously finds new ways to enthrall viewers, especially children who will lose their minds when they witness what this film has in store for them. The children at my screening were entertained, and one of them even got up from their seat when The Monkey King got some of his powers. 

But the story raises more questions than answers and hampers the film. The Monkey King has never taken no for an answer and is now on a quest to become immortal. He starts this by killing over 100 demons, crossing his name off a scroll in Hell, which only makes him half-immortal. However, becoming fully immortal proves difficult for the King, as he teams up with Lin (Jolie Haong-Rapaport) to attain immortality by traveling to Heaven and defeating the immortals who control it. However, Lin has been working for The Dragon King, who promised her rainfall in her village, whose crops have been devastated by the scorching heat. But The Monkey King is a total jerk – he only does a quest that benefits his personal gain, and not anyone’s. He even tries to outsmart Buddha (BD Wong)…and it doesn’t work. 

As a movie destined for families, The Monkey King challenges younger viewers in asking to sympathize with a protagonist who is completely unlikeable in every sense of the word. Yes, the film is based on several texts (Cheang Pou-soi’s The Monkey King painted the titular character in a more thoughtful and vibrant light than this film), but does he have to be this unlikeable? As good as O. Yang is, the character is unfortunately written in a way that feels irritating instead of making audiences understand exactly why he wants to attain immortality and defeat the Gods on top of the hierarchy. It’s all egotistical, and it, unfortunately, doesn’t imbue any positive values on children, who usually are taken to animated films by their parents to make them learn about something. 

The Monkey King doesn’t have any positive message to pass on or even a lesson to come out of this ordeal. Instead, we get to observe The Monkey King irritating every other character and only thinking about himself for 92 minutes. How fun. No, really, that’s it. And the villain is also egotistical — he wants to steal The Monkey King’s stick to submerge the planet in water and take over Earth. So we have a self-centered monkey fighting a self-centered dragon for their nefarious gains. And no one, not even Lin, learns anything meaningful in the process. I might’ve excused its mostly annoying characters were it not for a core message, but none of that is found here. 

Thankfully, the visuals and action sequences are all terrific, and the main reason why the movie is, against all odds, watchable. The voice cast is also quite good, with Bowen Yang being the biggest highlight as The Dragon King and Wong impressing in a minor role as Buddha. But it’s not enough to save The Monkey King with a haphazard story and problematic character arcs. Kids will certainly enjoy its breakneck pace and staggering action sequences, but will they learn anything meaningful beyond the pretty visuals? I highly doubt it…

Grade: C+

Top Ten Michael Fassbender Essentials

Before big ticket failures like Assassin’s Creed or panned thrillers like The Snowman and more time spent on being a race car driver than making movies, Michael Fassbender was an indie darling knocking on Hollywood’s door. Here’s a rundown of Fassbender’s heavy dramas, quirky pieces, and award worthy performances from back when Jonah Hex was his only outlier.


10. Angel

Precocious Romola Garai (The Crimson Petal and the White) dreams of becoming a famous writer and erasing her humble past in director François Ozon’s (Swimming Pool) 2007 sweeping, lovely, fanciful, and tongue in cheek yarn. Our titular turn of the century romantic is smitten with Lothario painter Michael Fassbender, but the intentionally bemusing Victorian over the top and silly, sentimental old time montages give way to crisscrossing love triangles and Great War bitterness. The dreamlike, storybook style humor and pre-War fiction becoming fact decadence accent Angel’s revisionist tawdry. The hedonistic characters don’t take themselves too seriously even as heavier subject matter looms, but the classy ensemble uses each other to keep their secrets as Angel’s tantrums and fantastical lifestyle escalates. Garai is delightfully distasteful as Angel is swept up in her own mystique and unceremoniously pays the price for getting what she wants. Her out of touch Victorian opulence and juicy books lose their luster as changing Edwardian fates find her in true Dickensian fashion. Fassbender captures Angel’s breathtakingly idealized Esme as each looks the other way at their lies. Fassbender’s eyes carry Esme’s unsaid Great War torment and deceptions. His continued emasculation at Angel’s hands goes from perceived paradise to a shattering reality. Some period romance fans may be put off by the mocking tone and the play on genres between period versus fantasy is uneven at times. Fortunately, there is enough grandiose wit and flights of fancy for fans of the cast as this blissful tale turns wonderfully tragic.


9. A Dangerous Method

Director David Cronenberg (A History of Violence) re-teams with Viggo Mortensen (Eastern Promises) as Sigmund Freud to Michael Fassbender’s Carl Jung in this 2011 psychoanalysis opus. The dialogue-based storytelling may be old-fashioned or slow for some audiences while the in-camera cuts perhaps move too fast with years of treatment and correspondence passing from scene to scene in a stream of consciousness in media res. Thankfully, the frank conversations and bantering debates amplify the religion, medicine, and id discourse. Attention to period detail and intimate filming with up close photography showing both doctor and patient during the “Talking Cure” reflect the inward out examinations. Unfortunately, disturbed patient Keira Knightley(Atonement) is a distracting, unsympathetic contortionist as the jealous Sabina conflating doctor/patient affairs, blackmail letters, and psychoanalysis dissertations. Knightley never throws herself into the character with complete abandon, leaving the battle of the sexes ideologies feeling watered down, tame, and lightweight. Sara Gadon (Cosmopolis), however, is pleasantly surprising as the quiet in white lace Emma Jung trapped in a stoic, one-sided marriage. Her one scene with the unstable and intrusive Sabina is awkward perfection, but their maternal submissive meets masculine dominance give and take sadly goes unexplored. Vincent Cassel (Black Swan) also deserved more time as the devil on Jung’s shoulder to Mortenson’s father figure Freud. Their professional resentments and larger psychoanalytical philosophies should have been the film’s focus instead of the pseudo love triangle. Jung’s buttoned up strictness, finite mannerisms, and tight mustache contrast his pleasant psychologist’s demeanor and the passions he must explore. Fassbender embodies both the charming ideas and the conflict upon Jung’s mind over his behind closed doors taboo Edwardian experiences. The glasses come off as Jung makes mistakes, denies, admits, lives. Despite some uneven pacing and performances, Cronenberg’s cerebral panache makes for an intriguing film conversation here.

8. Slow West

Loner Fassbender helps young Kodi Smit-McPhee (The Power of the Dog) find his sweetheart in 1870 Colorado for writer and director John Maclean’s (Pitch Black Heist) visually stunning 2015 full length directorial debut with crisp skylines, impressive camerawork, and a surreal patina. The opening narration establishes the harsh frontier and suspicious, unforgiving mood, but additional, head hopping voiceovers are obvious and unnecessary. Intercut flashbacks and seemingly happy recollections interfere with the present quest and should have come in one early sequence to bookend the superb shootout finale. Likewise, we shouldn’t see the unreliable Rose herself until required, for dream sequences and foreshadowing fears better encapsulate the sardonic tone wrapped in the traditional western motifs. Everything that will happen is alluded to somewhere in the film, layering the character realizations, bounty hunter codes, and cowboy rivalry. Though short at under ninety minutes, the well paced reflection and quiet conversations progress with the forward moving journey and siege action. Smit-McPhee’s young Scottish noble is in over his head with idyllic hopes and a trusting nature that gets the better of him. He thinks this is all one big adventure despite increasing consequences and the need to kill quickly. Some plot holes, however, hamper his improving ingenuity, creating questions on who knows the who what when where and whys. How many people have to end up dead because clueless Jay is in the wrong place at the wrong time causing exactly what he was trying to prevent? Fassbender’s Silas, in contrast, is commanding on horseback – a cigar chomping, ruthless, rugged drifter who abides by no law and demands cash. He sleeps upright, robs when necessary, and counters Jay’s romantic stories with cynical humor. For all his lawless posturing, mercenary motivations, stoic action, and belittling delivery, however; traveling with Jay changes Silas from whiskey killer to fond father figure. Despite a few narrative hiccups, viewers should watch this ironic tale at least twice for the layered winks and genre metaphors.


7. Frank

Struggling songwriter Domhnall Gleeson (Ex Machina) joins the unusual, unpronounceable band Soronprfbs and its eponymous, eccentric singer Michael Fassbender – who wears a giant papier-mâché head. “Chinchilla!” safe words, goofy one-liners, and social media commentary anchor the witty, natural script as our newcomer chronicles the recording of the band’s next album on social media with “#livingthedream” unreliability. Jon asks the questions on our mind: Does Frank have a beard? How does he brush his teeth? Is he disfigured? He’s from Kansas? The askew, self-aware comedic circumstances make it okay to laugh at tender moments, but the band’s internet notoriety leads to insensitive media and jokes about the head. Theremin player Maggie Gyllenhaal (Secretary) pretends she doesn’t care – a tough, bizarrely nurturing figure who knows Soronprfbs doesn’t need to be famous but they do need music to heal. Making music is a religious revival to Frank, but once we see he still wears his “has a certificate” head offstage, we’re hooked by his artistic fragility. We don’t blame Frank for wearing his head because we hide within our own facades, illusions, and phony hashtags to control how we’re perceived. This mask helps Frank express himself and see through other people’s issues even though he doesn’t realize his own brokenness. Fassbender embodies the top heavy physicality and offbeat genius with a different unknown voice from inside the head, and life just might be easier if we too clarified our internal facial expressions as Frank does. This is an excellent character study from director Lenny Abrahamson (Room) exploring the quirky whilst being no less poignant – no matter how you pronounce Soronprfbs.

6. Prometheus

Noomi Rapace (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo) petitions the Weyland Company to fund an archaeological expedition to the distant planet LV-223, but only Michael Fassbender’s android David is awake for the journey to discover these “Engineers” and the alien origins of humanity in director Ridley Scott’s 2012 return to the Alien universe. The bright science fiction palette and imaginative special effects look simply smashing as the foreboding body horrors escalate with planetary storms and trapped personnel encountering creepy creatures and ancient artifacts. Unfortunately, the creature connections, origin aspirations, and spiritual character motivations that should have been explained by writer Damon Lindelof (Lost) go unrealized thanks to the rushed, disjointed script leaving deleted scenes and supplemental material to fill in the plot holes and inconsistencies saved for the inevitable sequel. Although Rapace is up to snuff as the Oedipal object of David’s intentions, any scary speculative science fiction food for thought descends into obvious contrivances. Conflicts between faith, science, and the reexamination of humanity fall prey to nonsensical actions. Charlize Theron (Monster) is ice queen company representative good fun, but she deserved more, and the quality supporting cast including captain Idris Elba (Luther) and Guy Pearce (L.A. Confidential) as Peter Weyland are squandered. Fortunately, Fassbender’s hyperactive, prepubescent, synthetic sociopath David subtly exceeds his programming in uniquely devoid yet malevolent orchestrations. He continually disobeys any instruction and uses his superior intellect to gain control, outgrowing his human inventors and using Engineer technology to his advantage. Botched Alien connections, fly by night scripting, and behind the scenes flaws aside; Prometheus is nonetheless entertaining for science fiction lovers thanks to the capable cast.


5. X-Men: First Class


Nazi scientist Kevin Bacon (Mystic River) tortures Michael Fassbender’s metal manipulating Erik Lehnsherr while privileged James McAvoy (Split) as Charles Xavier becomes a mutant professor aiding the CIA to avoid nuclear war during the Cuban Missile Crisis in director Matthew Vaughn’s (Layer Cake) vibrant, swinging, Bond-esque 2011 gem. Fedoras, frocks, gadgets, newsreels, and split screens accent the character focused friendships and fractures amid intelligent mutant debates and quiet rage. Compared to today’s comic book movies, the slower pace allows time for attention to detail, tension, and surprises building up to the Professor X and Magneto divide we know is to come. Certainly, the women are underutilized in this misogynistic sixties. The superfluous mutant henchmen and lightweight X-Kids make for an unnecessarily crowded ensemble that should have been recruited for a direct follow up film. Thankfully, McAvoy embodies the zest, compassion, and hope of our prequel Charles. Initially arrogant, Charles’ awakening of Erik’s full power in hopes of mutants living together peacefully with homo sapiens instead comes at a very high price. Frankenstein parallels, Jekyll and Hyde metaphors, and Neanderthal comparisons add layers to the diverging mutant ideologies, and Fassbender excels with an abandon for languages, revenge, standoffs, and tears. He’s the soon to be bad guy justified in everything that he does. His deadly magnetism and ruthlessness combine for a 007 Dalton meets Craig edge, but we know better than to believe Erik will work for the common good with Charles. With stylish mid century elan and on the precipice performances, this is a serious superhero film and one of X-Men‘s finest.


4. Jane Eyre

This 2011 adaptation of Charlotte Bronte’s 1847 tale featuring the titular Mia Wasikowska (Crimson Peak) to Michael Fassbender’s Rochester has divine costumes, emotional scoring, excellent locales, foggy scenery, and flickering period lighting. Candles and firelight invoke an old-fashioned ambiance as well as shadows and gothic mood. Natural camerawork and flashback storytelling build realistic suspense and mystery as our governess trades literary barbs with the brooding master of the manor. Wasikowska’s poise reiterates Jane’s intelligence and self-respect as she grows from pale to radiant and confident in her unusual relationship with Rochester. The Bronte banter opens these kindred souls up beyond their societal barriers, but Jane sticks to her convictions despite Rochester’s intimidating attraction. Fassbender’s Master of Thornfield Hall appears almost as an apparition – striking an alluring balance between lonely menace and unobtainable flirtation. He’s demanding, pesky, and trusts no one but Jane, whose spitfire matches his own tongue in cheek intellect. Unfortunately, the Victorian conventions and secrets in the attic threaten to undo their would be bliss. Despite the reduced time and structural changes, Bronte fans and period piece aficionados will be swept up upon the moors thanks to these atmospheric performances.


3. Shame

The perfect façade of Michael Fassbender’s Brandon Sullivan hides a depraved sex addiction and a visit from his sister Carey Mulligan (Promising Young Woman) upends the out of control internet porn and call girls in director Steve McQueen’s visceral 2011 NC-17 drama. Unusual mixes of conversational dialogue, long silences, or musical interludes accent the alternating intercuts, unbalanced editing, and tight photography reflecting Brandon’s inner spiral. The distorted timeline builds both a conventional plot and nontraditional storytelling yet the script is not that explicit or shocking. This is a quiet film with actions and expressions letting the characters cry out in different ways. Needy Mulligan is full of heart wrenching issues all her own, but Brandon cannot give the help she wants. Brother and sister – scarred and unashamed to be naked in front of each other – come to violent, pseudo-sexual blows because they should be able to heal their brokenness together yet it’s not their fault if they can’t. We feel for Brandon as our off kilter avatar thanks to his sad lifestyle and fear of intimacy. Cartoons and juvenile behavior suggest a previous trauma; Brandon’s apartment is bare and his gray pants/blue shirt/scarf uniform is as devoid as his stare. He never eats, only drinks, drugs, or caffeinates to keep his bottomless sex drive going. He can’t behave normally as the constant craving for an unattainable climax leads to nothingness. Fassbender’s tears encapsulate the man versus man, man versus nature, and man versus himself tragedy. This is a depressing, raw, uncompromising piece addressing our frailty, loathing, and pain.

2. Fish Tank

Writer and director Andrea Arnold (Red Road) wastes no frame as the natural, over the shoulder camera captures the bleak documentary feeling of the Essex council housing where delinquent teen Mia meets her mother’s latest boyfriend Michael Fassbender. Diegetic sound and the square, full screen ratio mirror the dated, boxed in, congested atmosphere as the Peeping Tom audience may not like what we observe. In her debut, Katie Jarvis captures Mia’s youthful rage and underlying softness with raw emotion and realism. Though her moves are outdated and not very good, dancing is Mia’s chosen self expression. The abandoned apartment where she practices is free from the shouting and violence at home. Mia lashes out with overused hollow curse words and plays dress up with her mother’s things – drinking, finding birth control, and mixing youth with adulthood in ways she doesn’t fully understand. When Connor comes along, he gets Mia out of her angry shell, becoming the stable force this family needs. Unfortunately, Mia’s infatuation with Connor blinds us to the budding inappropriateness she fails to comprehend and we’d rather not see. He seems friendly, caring, and sexy because we are in her point of view with increasingly askew slow motion and lucid, dream-like distortions as the line between father figure and intimacy blurs. Such ugly, taking advantage, loss of innocence indiscretions like this happen in the real world all the time, but the clouded juvenile view of Fassbender’s charisma leads to the blinders coming off in escalating surprises and crimes. Some parts of this coming of age tale are very difficult to watch. It’s meant to be uncomfortable, and the voyeuristic viewer comes away with no easy answers.


1. Hunger

After fellow Irish prisoners endure brutal abuses and inhumane treatments at the Maze Prison, Fassbender’s IRA Officer Bobby Sands ends their 1981 blanket and no-wash strike efforts in favor of a hunger strike. Father Liam Cunningham (Game of Thrones) attempts to convince Sands this will be equally unsuccessful, but Sands refuses food and medical treatment for 66 days as his body slowly wastes away in director Steve McQueen’s 2008 debut. Simmering, silent shots establish the bleakness as character backgrounds and stoic guards caught in a difficult position don’t make it easy to discern who is right or wrong. This is not a political movie but rather a story about one person suffering naked humiliations, excrement, orifices, and worse. The realistically dirty, unpleasant look of the film itself is emaciated, pared down and on strike against the glitzy, overdone Hollywood system. There’s precious little dialogue until Cunningham asks Sands why in an excellent, 17 minute unbroken two-shot. It’s natural, serious, sad, and even witty as viewers must pay attention to the smoking, subtle movements, hidden ticks, and vocal inflections to understand what’s really being said. What are Sands’ real motivations for the strike? Fassbender is without dialogue most of his time, letting his sad eyes and onscreen transformation capture the mundane starvation monotony and quiet bodily torment of waiting to die. The haunting imagery and worst of what humanity does to each other herein is not easy to watch yet this is a film you can’t forget. 

Preview of the 80th Biennale Di Venezia

As summer turns to autumn, a major batch of films is coming out, and Oscar season is starting to shift gears. The next of the big world film festivals, however, is overshadowed by the current SAG-AFTRA/WGA strike that won’t permit A-listers from attending the event. New films from Richard Linklater, Woody Allen (I know), Luc Besson (again, I know), William Friedkin (R.I.P.), Sofia Coppola, Bradley Cooper, and David Fincher are among the highly anticipated films coming out with a jury led by director Damien Chazelle and joined by Jane Campion, Martin McDonough, and Mia Hanson-Love. Here’s a short list of those films to look out for. 

El Conde (Chile)

Pablo Larrain (Jackie, Spencer) is back home with his dark comedy that will touch a raw nerve in Chile. His new feature portrays the notorious military dictator Augusto Pinochet as a vampire who has lived for 250 years and now wants to die as things get worse for him. With a Netflix release, it can be viewed anywhere, and the reaction to this movie could be interesting. Pinochet’s legacy remains a stain on Chile, but a significant percentage of the population sees him as Chile’s modern liberator. It is Larrain’s second film on the Pinochet era after 2012’s, No. 

Ferrari (USA)

An all-Italian story dramatized by Hollywood. Sounds familiar? After Adam Driver played a Gucci two years ago, he now plays Enzo Ferrari in Michael Mann’s long-awaited biopic. Set in the 1950s, the story follows a particular time in his life: the death of his son plus the financial struggles of his company as Ferrari aims to win the highly sought Mille Miglia, a 1,000-mile race across the country. With Penelope Cruz, Shailene Woodley, Gabriel Leone, and Patrick Dempsey, it will make quite an impression – or be hostile – to Italian audiences about one of their being made by Hollywood. 

The Palace (ITA/SUI/FRA)

I’m going to get a lot of slack for mentioning this movie because of the director, but since I already said Woody Allen and Luc Besson, to me, I might as well pick out their films. Polanski, who is 90 years old and what could be his final film, has his dark comedy to show. Set in a Swiss luxury hotel on New Year’s Eve, 1999, guests from all over the continent merge and have a ball of a night that becomes a sudden wreck. The international ensemble includes Fanny Ardent, Oliver Masucci, John Cleese, Joaquim de Almeida, and Mickey Rourke. 

Poor Things (UK/USA)

Five years after his universally acclaimed The Favorite, director Yorgos Lanthimos is back and reunites with star Emma Stone and screenwriter Tony McNamara. This time around, this dark comedy follows a dead woman who is brought back to life and then looking to insert herself back into the world. Mark Ruffalo, Willem Dafoe, Ramy Youssef, Jerrod Carmichael, and Margaret Qualley also star in this surrealistic Victorian-era piece, a seeming mockery about an era of “values” that Lanthimos is fit to chop up.

Society Of The Snow (URU/SPA)

J.A. Bayona goes to another real-life disaster story after The Impossible. It is one Hollywood has produced before, the 1993 film Alive! It is the harrowing tale of survival from a group of Uruguyans who crash high in the Andes mountains in 1972 and survive for weeks despite the cold and hunger. With Netflix’s support, Bayona shot the film around the actual location of the crash site and used unknowns to play the group. Society is also the festival’s closing film and will play out of competition. 

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review: ‘The Last Voyage of the Demeter’ is a Dull Retread


Director: André Øvredal
Writers: Bragi Schut Jr & Zak Olkewicz
Stars: Corey Hawkins, Liam Cunningham, Javier Botet

Synopsis: A crew sailing from Carpathia to England find that they are carrying very dangerous cargo.


*This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the movie being covered here wouldn’t exist.*

“It’s Dracula on a boat.” “It’s like Alien, but with Dracula.” You don’t need to say anything else. I’m here. No matter how terrible the title is. I will see that in a heartbeat. What an incredible concept based on The Ship’s Log from Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Why didn’t anyone think of this before? Especially after the maligned Renfield, it certainly sounds like it could reignite interest in Dracula after Universal failed to readapt the tale in 2014 with Dracula Untold. Not only that, but it stars Corey Hawkins as the lead, one of the best up-and-coming actors working today, and the music is composed by Bear McCreary, fresh from his incredible work in The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power? Shut up and take my money!

I was ready to watch The Last Voyage of the Demeter. Yes, it’s a bad title. Possibly the worst of the year. But if the film is good, I can easily forgive a flimsy title. And while it’s welcomed in the realm of horror to have a lean and mean premise and a good lead performance from Corey Hawkins, the film itself is one of the dullest horror movies I’ve seen in a very long time and one of the most disappointing outings from a studio I’ve seen all year. It’s even worse when the film starts quite decent, beautifully shot, and immediately hits the audience with the eeriest possible atmosphere as we see the remains of the Demeter before it flashes back to four weeks before this scene. Then it grinds to a halt and never picks up. 

The movie follows the Demeter’s titular last voyage, as the shipmates discover that a cargo they’ve been carrying has been killing off crew members one by one. First, it killed all of the animals on board. Then it starts picking up some of the B-crew members until the middle section arrives, and one major character has to die for the stakes to be elevated before its climax. All of this has been hampered to death in so many horror movies time and again. Still, I will applaud director André Øvredal for doing something that no one else would’ve ever done with one of the most shocking midpoint swings I’ve seen since the death of Maria Hill in Secret Invasion. Of course, that’s apples and oranges, but it did catch me off guard and, quite frankly, shocked the living hell out of me. 

But that’s the only exciting scene The Last Voyage of the Demeter offers. Instead of creating an atmosphere of pure dread as they progressively discover that this boat is harboring the blood-sucking Dracula (Javier Botet), the movie would rather craft endless murky sequences filled with jumpscares and gotcha! moments. One character looks at the sea with his monocular, panning slowly until BOO! Dracula appears before him and…disappears as he takes his eye off. Next, he talks to Clemens (Hawkins), lightning strikes, and, of course, Dracula is right behind him. All of it, from how Øvredal frames these sequences, have been plucked straight out of other horror films, and there’s no eye for the original or the exciting here. 

It would rather play it safe with the “Dracula on a boat” concept than elevate it and produce the next horror cult classic. And even the scenes where Dracula kills people are poorly constructed. It doesn’t help that none of the night sequences (where most of the movie takes place) are poorly lit and have barely any energy to sustain most of the runtime. It’s either poorly lit and haphazardly shot, or with lighting hitting the frames in a strobe-light effect, audiences become overwhelmed by its power. Botet’s practical performance of Dracula, which is genuinely terrifying, gets hampered by what looks like unfinished CGI. 

It doesn’t look scary or finished when Dracula flies for the first time. The CGI completely bogs down Botet’s portrayal of the character. It must have been fun playing an on-screen iteration of the character we hadn’t seen since F.W. Murnau’s Nosferatu (until Robert Eggers releases his version of Murnau’s film next year). Yet, his performance can’t be seen amidst the sea of computer-generated effects he is masked with. Botet has brought to life some of the scariest creatures in modern-day horror cinema. Yet, his talents are completely wasted here, especially in its final act, in which Dracula arrives at the full extent of his on-screen powers without much excitement generated from its aesthetics and acting. We can always count on Bear McCreary to accompany the film with a wonderful score, but most of the acting here is surprisingly forgettable. 

Hawkins is the best part of the movie as its moral center, always trying to justify what’s going on with reason and scientific rigor. Still, everyone else is a distinct cliché: Liam Cunningham as the washed-up captain who refuses to believe a supernatural entity is here, Aisling Franciosi has a personal vendetta against Dracula and is the only one who knows how to defeat it, and David Dastmalchian teeters the line between rationality and irrationality. And then you’ve got the kid, played here by Cobweb’s Woody Norman (his horror streak is not very good!). Of course, the kid will get into serious trouble, and Hawkins’ character will act as its father figure, protecting him at all costs when his grandfather (the captain) can’t. All of these character arcs, even Hawkins, don’t add anything new to the table and bloat what could’ve otherwise been a lean 85-90-minute affair to two hours, spending way too much time building storylines with very little payoff near the end, instead of hammering its gothic aesthetic with modern-day gore sensibilities, which is what an “Alien but Dracula” movie should’ve been in the first place. 

As a result, The Last Voyage of the Demeter fails to deliver on its core premise. Yes, Dracula is on a boat…but did it have to be this boring? After the incredible success of RackaRacka’s Talk To Me, Hollywood studios need to realize that most moviegoers are turning down mainstream horror and are instead supporting auteur-driven (and independent) horror films that will not only scare the living hell out of you but consistently take risks in its plot structure and aesthetics. The Last Voyage of the Demeter is not only extremely dull to look at, but its story re-treads so many beats that have already been done far too many times in studio-driven horror. It’s time for the genre to reinvent itself before it grows even more stale than current studio offerings. 

Grade: D

Chasing the Gold: Barbenheimer

Two of the year’s biggest hits, Barbie and Oppenheimer, were finally released on July 21, and both films have received significant Oscar buzz in the days since. They are likely to do well at next year’s Academy Awards ceremony, including in the top eight categories. Barbie has a good shot at getting into Best Adapted Screenplay for Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach, along with Best Picture. Oppenheimer will probably perform even better, with nominations predicted for Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Director for Christopher Nolan as well as Best Picture.

But what about the acting categories? Does anyone in the Barbie cast have a chance at hearing their names called on Oscar nominations morning? And despite Heath Ledger being the only actor in a Christopher Nolan movie to ever manage an Oscar nomination (and win) for The Dark Knight, might some of the talent from Oppenheimer receive acting Oscar nods? Here are the five actors from the two movies who can do it…

1. Robert Downey Jr., Best Supporting Actor for Oppenheimer

The most surefire contender from the two films is Robert Downey, Jr., who gives one of the best performances of his career as Lewis Strauss, the government official who did not see eye-to-eye with Robert Oppenheimer. His character goes through a fascinating arc, cool and confident in his earlier scenes, and losing his patience to dramatic effect in the third act. A moment near the end when his character goes berserk in an angry rant is particularly memorable. The character allowed Downey Jr. to flex his acting chops in a way he hasn’t done in years, and with two Oscar nominations behind him—for Chaplin in 1993 and Tropic Thunder in 2009—look for Downey, Jr. to enter the Best Supporting Actor Oscar race as the presumed frontrunner in early 2024. 

2. Ryan Gosling, Best Supporting Actor for Barbie 

It is extremely difficult to make it into the acting categories at the Academy Awards for a comedic performance, but Gosling’s hilarious, high-spirited turn as Ken in Greta Gerwig’s film is too much of a delight to pass up. If his character was only allowed to act silly and idiotic, he wouldn’t necessarily be a contender, but Gerwig takes Ken into unexpected directions, including giving him a long segment of the movie to sing his heart out and build more complexity into the character. Gosling already having two Oscar nominations behind him doesn’t hurt either—for Half Nelson in 2007 and La La Land in 2017. With Barbie’s massive popularity, the Academy is going to want to reward at least one of the cast members with a nomination, and the same way Melissa McCarthy was deemed worthy of an Oscar nod for Bridesmaids in 2012, Gosling will make the final cut next year for Best Supporting Actor.  

3. Cillian Murphy, Best Actor for Oppenheimer

Murphy not making it in for his impressive lead performance in Oppenheimer would be one of the craziest snubs in recent years. Nolan’s epic rests on his shoulders, Murphy in almost every scene of the three-hour running time. He has never been nominated before, which could put doubt in people’s minds, but he’s never had a juicy role like Robert Oppenheimer to sink his teeth into and show what he’s made of as an actor. It’s not a colorful performance the way Ken is in Barbie, and Murphy isn’t given a ton of showy moments the way Robert Downey, Jr. is in Oppenheimer’s third act. However, Murphy is essentially the entire movie, and given Oppenheimer’s behemoth box office and massive critical acclaim, you can bet on a Best Actor nod for Cillian Murphy. 

4. Margot Robbie, Best Actress for Barbie

If Greta Gerwig’s warmly embraced film can get into Best Supporting Actor, Best Adapted Screenplay, and Best Picture, is it possible the star of the film gets left off the Best Actress list? Unlike Cillian Murphy, who is almost guaranteed a Best Actor nod for Oppenheimer, Robbie’s best shot at getting into Best Actress for Barbie comes down to how competitive the category will be next year. It’s difficult for comedic performances to get into the supporting acting categories, and it’s nearly impossible for them to make it into Lead Actor or Lead Actress. Her character goes to some moving and dramatic places in the second half, which should help Robbie’s chances, as will her two previous Oscar nominations for I, Tonya in 2018 and Bombshell in 2020. Whatever happens, Robbie is likely to get at least one Academy Award nod for Barbie—even if she doesn’t make it into Best Actress, a producing nod is likely for Best Picture.  

5. Emily Blunt, Best Supporting Actress for Oppenheimer

The immensely talented Emily Blunt has done great work in films like The Devil Wears Prada, Sicario, and A Quiet Place, and yet she still has never received an Oscar nomination. Will 2024 finally be the year Blunt receives some much overdue recognition from the Academy? Although she doesn’t have a big role in Oppenheimer as Robert’s wife Kitty, many of her scenes in the film’s first half being brief and with little dramatic power, she’s given a few excellent moments in the second half. Her back-and-forth with Murphy show frustration and longing, and her riveting interrogation room scene near the film’s conclusion might be enough for Blunt to find herself with her first Academy Award nomination.

The only other person I could see being a potential spoiler in the acting Oscar categories is America Ferrera in Barbie for Best Supporting Actress. Her one beautifully delivered monologue she delivers about the frustrations of being a woman could be her ticket to a surprise Oscar nomination if the category isn’t super competitive. Overall, look for both Barbie and Oppenheimer to show up on Oscar nominations morning in the acting categories. The race in Best Supporting Actor between Robert Downey Jr. and Ryan Gosling is especially going to be a fun one!

Movie Review: ‘Dreamin’ Wild’ Thrives In Its Sincerity


Director: Bill Pohlad
Writers: Bill Pohlad
Stars: Casey Affleck, Walton Goggins, Zooey Deschanel, Beau Bridges, Noah Jupe

Synopsis: Musical duo Donnie and Joe Emerson spend everything they have to produce a record in the 1970s.


Sincerity.

Sincerity can often be the biggest strength of a film, and in some cases it’s what saves a movie from any over indulgences. Whether it be melodrama, sentimentality, thematic structure, or performances; genuine sincerity will almost always overcome any potential pitfalls the film has. And that certainly is the case for Bill Pohlad (Love & Mercy)’s latest film, Dreamin’ Wild, starring Cassey Affleck and Walton Goggins.

Dreamin’ Wild is based upon the true story of the Emerson brothers, Donnie (Affleck) and Joe (Goggins), who produced an album in their teens. Upon its initial release in the late 1970s, it came and went without any critical or financial success. It was also the beginning and the end of their musical careers in many respects. Donnie continued to pursue music before realizing it wasn’t going to be as fruitful as he hoped. Three decades after recording their album “Dreamin’ Wild” as teenagers, they are contacted by a record producer who wants to re-release the album and truly market the soundtrack properly. Donnie and Joe didn’t know it, but their album has somehow become popular with the advent of the internet.

For most people, it would seem as if this is the opportunity of a lifetime. It’s a Hollywood story that doesn’t seem real. You make an unsuccessful album in your youth only for it to be revitalized as a big hit in your 40’s? That only happens in the movies, right? That’s pretty much how Donnie reacts to the news. He’s in disbelief. He’s dreamed of this happening his entire life, but never thought it was possible. Yet, as the film unfolds, we start to see that Donnie’s reaction to all of this isn’t incredulousness, it’s something deeper. Something more somber.

Enter in sincerity. In one of the most crowd-pleasing characters of the year, we learn that Donnie’s father – Don Sr. (Beau Bridges) – is a major catalyst behind his musical prowess. When he realized that Donnie was gifted as a kid, he went out of his way to gift him guitars and pianos. He built them a studio on their farm to hone their skills and make music. He guided his boys with wisdom. He loved them at all costs. Don Sr. is the kind of film character that is often saccharine, but Bridges brings a warmth to the character that avoids that pitfall. When we learn of his sacrifices, and how that affected Donnie, it could have felt emotionally manipulative. And in the hands of a lesser filmmaker, it would have. But Pohlad and Bridges, alongside Affleck and Goggins, offer a rich honesty that not only gives the film integrity, but that emotion is felt with earnest relatability.

In one way or another, everyone has experience with grappling with disappointment as it relates to their parents. We understand Donnie’s deep-rooted guilt. Especially when we come to realize the cost of Donnie pursuing his dreams. It was heavy. So, this opportunity to save his musical career isn’t just about him, it’s about his family. His father. His brother. Affleck is perhaps best known for his saddening retrospective style of acting, which makes his casting impeccable. The way he portrays guilt and shame here is quite sublime. Equal to the task is Goggins, who is aware that he’s not the musical genius of the family, but rather someone who just wants to spend time with his brother. The way he conveys love and respect, despite being chewed out a few times, is remarkable. He’s truly the unsung hero of this cast.

Pohlad doesn’t quite reach the same heights as Love & Mercy, but his direction and storytelling with Dreamin’ Wild is still impressive. Structurally speaking, the film echoes what we see in Love & Mercy between one’s past and present, with Noah Jupe playing young Donnie. There are moments in which those editing lines are apparent, and slightly manufactured as we come to find out what’s driving Donnie’s guilt. However, did I mention the sincerity of this film? All kidding aside, those sequences could been seen as cloying, but they aren’t. And it’s not just the performances, it’s Pohlad’s direction and how much he clearly cares about this story.

Dreamin’ Wild may not be winning any Oscars, but it’s one of those movies that often qualify as “Best Surprises” of the year. There’s so much joy to be had here with its ideas on family, sacrifice and love. Even if it is sappy (and I don’t think it is), I ate it up. These performances are very good. The music is captivating. It’s a film worth your time.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Heart of Stone’ Weakens After Its Reveal


Director: Tom Harper
Writers: Greg Rucka and Allison Schroeder
Stars: Gal Gadot, Jamie Dornan, Paul Ready

Synopsis: An intelligence operative for a shadowy global peacekeeping agency races to stop a hacker from stealing its most valuable and dangerous weapon.


Of all the streaming services, Netflix has undoubtedly tried the most to create new action franchises. Extraction seems to be the saga with more financial and commercial success, but it’s too short for an entertainment network capable of convincing the biggest talents in the industry to work on the small screen. Heart of Stone is the latest attempt, with Gal Gadot serving as “bait” for the home audience, although the most significant personal interest falls on Greg Rucka – creator of numerous comics for Marvel and DC Comics, as well as The Old Guard, also adapted by himself for Netflix.

With Tom Harper (The Aeronauts) as director and Allison Schroeder (Christopher Robin) helping with the screenplay, the truth is that Heart of Stone manages to surprise viewers with a fast-paced, captivating first half, packed with efficient narrative twists, and in-location action with pretty convincing stunts. As impartial as I can be, I found the Lisbon set piece genuinely impressive not only due to the long, adrenaline-charged chase but also to Mark Eckersley’s (All the Old Knives) editing, which, for those who know the city, creates a pleasantly logical, easy-to-follow path, in addition to showing some essential tourist points of the Portuguese capital.

Even leaving this more personal element aside, Heart of Stone grabs viewers from the start without treating them disrespectfully. The premise could hardly be more formulaic, following dozens of ideas previously seen in so many other films – including an AI system that allows access to all cameras and uses deterministic calculations to predict the future – but, during the first hour, the time is dedicated to the espionage storyline as well as the relationship between the main special agents.

A revelation at the end of this first half will even raise the eyebrows of more experienced viewers, but after this impactful moment, Heart of Stone strangely begins to lose the energy, general interest, and even technical competence of its action sequences. Unnecessary exposition narrated with equally useless images becomes the main storytelling method. Character and plot developments become exponentially predictable and unimaginative, culminating in an emotionally hollow ending. And finally, the action itself becomes too reliant on noticeable fake backgrounds, inconsistent CGI, and over-the-top stunts.

Heart of Stone also lacks any kind of thematic weight, as well as any character arc not driven by bland personal vendettas. Whenever there’s an ideal moment to deepen some conversation, the movie immediately accelerates to the next location and subsequent action scene. This superficiality is even more disappointing when the cast shares commendable chemistry. Gadot is decent enough as the lead, but Jamie Dornan (Belfast) stands out with the most intriguing role of the bunch.

Unfortunately, Heart of Stone doesn’t justify or induce thought-provoking discussions or complex analysis, but it would be unfair not to mention that it fulfills its primary purpose: simple, straightforward, light entertainment to enjoy at home with family and friends on a weekend without plans. Personally, this type of film usually gets a borderline positive review, but a cultural crime prevents me from doing so. I wholeheartedly appreciate the time dedicated to shooting in Portugal, a country with stunning locations for Hollywood cinema, but mentioning that “eating tapas” is part of its gastronomic culture – in yet another example that contributes to the absurd misconception that Portugal is a province of Spain – demonstrates such highly offensive cultural ignorance that I must not and cannot ignore.

Grade: C+

Movie Review (Locarno 2023): ‘Bitten (La Morsure)’ Gets Lost in Genre Crossings


Director: Romain de Saint-Blanquat
Writers: Romain de Saint-Blanquat
Stars: Fred Blin, Léonie Dahan-Lamort, Lilith Grasmug

Synopsis: A Catholic schoolgirl is convinced tonight is her last night on Earth and decides to attend a costume party with her best friend.


Taking its inspirations from Giallo horror and 2000s teen coming-of-age films, with a look and atmosphere that’s reminiscent of the sixties, Romain de Saint-Blanquat’s Bitten (La Morsure) delivers some fascinating (and occasionally haunting) visuals that stay with the viewer. But, as it runs its course, the film’s ideas on youth, death, love, and teenage angst go for a fifty-fifty split between hollow and fascinating for its intriguing concept, ending with a pretty anti-climatic finale that leaves you wanting more. 

Many genre combinations have appeared and disappeared in horror cinema, often inciting means to revisit them years after. Horror and comedy have been interlaced with one another for what seems like forever. The same goes for the coming-of-age story, sci-fi, fantasy, and many other genres and stories. But I don’t think (at least to my recollection) anybody has blended the Giallo horror visual aesthetics with vampirism and added a manic pixie dream girl main character from the 2000s as a cherry on top of the strange dark sundae. All of this sounds like a fascinating, yet messy feature with plenty on its table. And it is, as we see in Romain de Saint-Blanquat’s feature-length directorial debut Bitten (La Morsure), which is making its world premiere at the Locarno Film Festival. While interesting on paper, the movie doesn’t fully crack the potential of its horror-drama-comedy genre combinations. But it does have something going for it via its imagery and flash. 

Set in the year 1967 on Ash Wednesday, a day of repentance for all Catholics, a weird, ominous collage of ritual-like images introduces Romain de Saint-Blanquat’s Bitten, as it gets its look from the VHS 80s horror pictures and the grainy feeling of vintage 60s cameras. As a house burns down, a girl with a cross on her forehead looks terrified at a dark figure staring back at her. Her makeup runs down her face as the fire destroys everything in its path. All of a sudden, a young woman named Françoise (Léonie Dahan-Lamort) – a student in a Catholic convent school in the middle of France – wakes up from her deep slumber; was it a bad dream… or was it a vision of an upcoming calamity? She’s perplexed by her nightmare as it all feels too real. To calm herself down and ease her mind, Françoise asks her classmate and best friend Delphine (Lilith Grasmug) to get out of bed. 

You immediately see that the two friends are polar opposites, as usual when it comes to quirky (or with a similar tone) coming-of-age films. While Françoise is more erratic and seems like the one who makes the rash decisions in the group, Delphine is more calm and pensive – in a sense, she’s more mature and occasionally repentant with her faith. Delphine is her alter ego, but one that doesn’t drag the other one down; they complement each other in various ways. However, there’s a chance that she might not save her in their next venture together. “Clockwise if I am to live, counterclockwise if I am to die.” When playing with a “gifted” pendulum, Françoise is convinced she has one more night to live. And if that’s the case, she wants to savor her final moments on Earth. So, they go to a hidden house party in the woods to find some boys, ending their curiosity with adolescence and love once and for all. 

Guided by her rash instincts and inquisitiveness for what the world has to offer, given that she doesn’t see much behind the fences that cover the convent school’s ground, Françoise makes a couple of dangerous decisions during her “dream night” – involving herself with a riotous crowd in exchange for cigarettes, a lonesome adult who keeps on following them (a plot point in the story which I don’t understand its meaning or purpose), and drinking until she pukes. She just wants a change from her monotonous life, which sets the path for these misadventures. But what they don’t expect is that something wicked this way comes. This night will be one to remember; the rebellious girl will meet a man with a secret, and her more tame friend is approached by a charming boy. And it was at this point in the film, almost at the thirty-minute mark, the shifting flow of its ideas began, ranging from fascinating to questionable. 

As the story develops, you begin to feel the cinematic inspirations Romain de Saint-Blanquat uses for his debut feature, combining the atmosphere of Giallo horror pictures with the teen coming-of-age trappings of the cult classic Ghost World, although with a more manic pixie dream girl vibe attached to its main character – and on top of it all having a banging sixties soundtrack. These stylistic choices make a magnetic force that constantly pulls your eyes to the screen. It is almost like an homage to its inspirations. Romain de Saint-Blanquat uses the essence of its sixties obstreperous setting rather than recreating it on-screen so the audience can be more immersed in this sensory experience. When you add the talent of the young performers to this visual mixture, it becomes an even more immersive tale. During the moments when the camera focuses on them, the director blends their facial expressions with nightmarish visions, just like the ones that introduce the film, often creating an illusory array of frames that cause more emotional reactions than the words being spoken. 


Although the imagery and cinematography by Martin Roux do create some occasional impacting visuals that stay with the viewer for a fleeting moment, the main problems that Bitten has are the development of its narrative and its anticlimactic conclusion that leaves more questions than answers in a way that doesn’t entice a conversation afterward. The second half of Bitten takes a more talkative approach instead of the horror-esque maneuvers it was previously implementing. This should have paved the way for a broader discussion on the previous topics it tackled, such as love, death, religion, and teenage angst. Yet, it never reaches a point where it moves you the same way as it did with this imagery beforehand. I believe this has to do with adding vampirism into the tale. Not all of the film’s ideas have a purpose or contain the thematic heft to uplift its convictions. But most of them that arrive in the middle and third act feel hollow. And when you compare it to what was presented during the introductory one, it makes you less intrigued by what the film has to offer as it goes.

Grade: C+

Movie Review: ‘Red, White & Royal Blue’ Slightly Sizzles Despite Poor Writing


Director: Matthew Lopez
Writers: Matthew Lopez and Ted Malawer
Stars: Taylor Zakhar Perez, Nicholas Galitzine, Uma Thurman

Synopsis: When the feud between the son of the American President and Britain’s prince threatens to drive a wedge in the U.S./British relations, the two are forced into a staged truce that sparks something deeper.


The novel Red, White, and Royal Blue, penned by Casey McQuinton in May of 2019, swiftly ascended to the ranks of the New York Times Bestseller list. Its rise was additionally propelled by enthusiastic endorsements from prominent TikTokers with a focus on books, collectively recognized as “BookTok,” which cultivated a dedicated and affectionate fanbase. The book garnered acclaim for its authentic portrayal of a gay romance, featuring a diverse cast of characters and gaining renown for its steamy insinuations.

The subsequent announcement of an Amazon Studios-backed film adaptation heightened the anticipation among the book’s enthusiasts. However, the film’s ability to successfully translate the heart of the story onto the screen relies heavily on each viewer’s personal connection to the source material. While the film manages to capture the essence that resonates with fans of the novel, it falters in its overall execution, which might leave general audiences struggling to establish a connection.

Set in an alternative fictional reality where a woman holds the presidency in the United States, and an equally fictional royal family graces the United Kingdom, the story follows the unexpected romantic journey between first son Alex Claremont-Diaz and His Royal Highness Prince Henry. This secret love affair is shrouded in caution due to potential political implications and the risk of creating foreign policy complications.

The narrative of the book unfolds through a series of exchanged emails that exude a delightfully flirtatious quality, adorned with cheeky lines designed to leave readers grinning. However, this charm that’s evident in the novel doesn’t seamlessly transition to the screenplay. The same lines, while charming on paper, lose their heartwarming and endearing touch when spoken by actors, often resulting in unsettlingly awkward moments.

Unfortunately, the distinct essence that defined the original text seems to have dissipated in its transition from page to screen. The adaptation ends up mirroring a commonplace gay romantic comedy, evoking a vibe reminiscent of content typically found on the Hallmark Channel. The majority of the dialogue lacks originality, being heavily imbued with the anticipated clichés of a typical rom-com. The entire screenplay feels akin to patched-together scenes borrowed from other films of a similar genre, with minimal adjustments to fit the narrative of this particular story.

In addition to its lackluster writing, the entire film grapples with a sense of miscasting, yielding performances that range from mediocre to subpar. Uma Thurman, in the role of President Ellen Claremont, attempts a southern accent that, unfortunately, proves painfully difficult to endure whenever she appears on screen. While the supporting ensemble endeavors to make the most of their roles, their limited experience, coupled with a less-than-adequate director, results in an overall presentation that feels dry and lackluster, reminiscent of a community college theater production.

Lead actor Taylor Zakhar Perez, who portrays first son Alex Claremont, seems to have been cast primarily for his striking looks, aligning closely with the physical description of the character in the novel. Regrettably, his acting was certainly not taken into consideration during the casting decision, as he emerges as the weakest link within the ensemble, despite being the character granted the most screen time. On the other hand, co-star Nicholas Galitzine, who takes on the role of his love interest, Prince Henry, delivers an acceptable performance, offering consistent support to the two main characters throughout the entirety of the film.

Fortunately, Sarah Shahi, portraying the no-nonsense chief of staff Zahara, injects much-needed moments of comedic relief and emerges as a standout in the film, easily constituting its strongest facet.

While the acting may not meet expectations, the chemistry between the two leads undeniably blossoms. Their shared tension is palpable, punctuated by an array of passionate make-out scenes and steamy intimate moments that mirror the essence of the novel. Remarkably, the film features a sex scene between the two lovers, executed with impeccable taste and intimacy. It’s bound to leave viewers feeling the heat and longing for a tall glass of water to quench their thirst, as these two actors undoubtedly stoke the flames.

On the other hand, the film’s true downfall lies in its dearth of coherent direction. It never quite achieves a consistent tone, leaving the impression that the director might have been engaged solely for a quick paycheck, devoid of any genuine connection to the source material or the final outcome. Evidently, there was a lack of dedication to providing the screenplay the essential refinement it warranted, or to aiding the actors in delivering credible performances.

Moreover, the film’s style is insipid and tonally perplexing. Numerous intimate moments that ought to be heart-wrenching instead manifest as awkward, or worse yet, unintentionally comedic. Similarly, scenes that should exude endearing charm and humor ultimately fall flat, rendering them stale in the process.

Beyond my personal emotional connection to the novel, I regret to convey that the film offers little in the way of substantial additions. For those devoted to the book, this adaptation is sure to deliver an enjoyable experience, as it did for me. Nonetheless, releasing this film directly to streaming is a prudent decision, as I am inclined to believe that the optimal viewing experience will be a relaxed one, enjoyed at home with differing degrees of focus and cognitive engagement.

Grade: C+

Op-Ed: Some Of The Favorites From The Criterion Channel So Far

Through the first half of the year (I wrote this after June 30), I’ve watched 100+ films of various genres coming from the Criterion Channel, which I always endorse. Every month, there’s a new slate and new themes that allow me to discover for the first time or rewatch. Here are a few of these films that have impressed me so far, but if you check out my Letterboxd (https://letterboxd.com/bsusbielles/list/criterion-channel-2023/), you can see what I have listed in order so far. 

Adam’s Rib (1949)

One of several films with real-life couple Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn, this battle of the sexes comedy from director George Cukor is a witty tale of the gender gap existing in real life. After a distressed woman (Judy Holliday) wounds her husband for having an affair, the assistant district attorney becomes the prosecutor while his wife, a defense attorney, takes up the woman’s case. The ongoing legal battle causes a bitter debate between the couple and brings up the question of who really wears the pants in the family. 

What’s Up, Doc? (1972)

Off the major success of The Last Picture Show, director Peter Bogdonavich shifted to a screwball comedy, playing homage to slapstick and love with this bonkers chase from the airport to the San Francisco pier. Ryan O’Neal is a musicologist looking to win a research grant but gets consistently caught in the troublesome bosom of Barbra Streisand, who finds the engaged stiff attractive. Meanwhile, other figures get caught up with their own goodies in matching bags, causing mayhem and neverending laughter to the end of the film. 

Attica (1974)

This documentary immerses viewers in the infamous prison riot of 1971 in New York State, capturing many points of view on what went on for four days in September. It has no bias, editing in numerous news and surveillance footage with interviews with prisoners, prison officers, and police who were outside trying to negotiate. It still has the raw feel of it being of recent years with the emotions of racism, distrust in authority, and demands for proper treatment in a hectic, chaotic time filled with sociopolitical turmoil. 

Vera (1986)

One of the earliest sympathetic portrayals of transgenderism came from Brazil loosely based on the life of a trans man whose poems were published at the age of 20 just before his tragic death. It is about the horrors of growing up in a facility for abandoned youths with violence and rejection all over and how a single person got out of the system to form an independent identity against norms. This is a humanist portrayal that rejects perversion against someone who identifies as the opposite sex and is a very important film in LGBT cinema.

CzechMate: In Search of Jiří Menzel (2018)

In 7.5 hours, director Shivendra Dungarpur tells the story of not just the Czech New Wave, but also the story of a singular director who dominated the field. Menzel, director of the Oscar-winning film Closely Watched Trains, allowed himself to be interviewed over a period of eight years, which Dungarpur cuts from archival footage to important films to numerous interviews with those who made the New Wave happen. It is a living textbook of how a country used a newly established liberalizing of free speech to satirize communist society and Menzel’s devotion to Czech cinema, never leaving his home country (his fellow countryman, Milos Forman, went to Hollywood), and was committed to his work for his entire life.

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man) 

Movie Review: ‘Meg 2: The Trench’ Trades Story For Gore


Director: Ben Wheatley
Writers: Jon Hoeber, Erich Hoeber, and Dean Georgaris
Stars: Jason Statham, Jing Wu, Shuya Sophia Cai

Synopsis: A research team encounters multiple threats while exploring the depths of the ocean, including a malevolent mining operation.


Meg 2: The Trench has Ben Wheatley making sure the film lives up to its ridiculous premise, at least for its third act. It is a baffling and self-aware shark movie that, for most of its runtime, doesn’t rely on the titular creatures to its fullest capacity. While the image of Jason Statham on a jet-ski throwing harpoons with bombs attached to a megalodon might be an appetizer to your B-movie craving, you are never fed a full meal. 

Filmmakers have always profited from our fear of the deep blue sea since the beginning of cinema. From The Creature of the Black Lagoon to The Poseidon Adventure, there are various ways for directors to make us buy a ticket for some fear-eliciting cinematic deep-sea experiences. But the ones that have remained a constant staple in pop culture throughout the decades are shark movies (and the sharksploitation movement that came along). This is why Steven Spielberg’s Jaws was the first movie to make us think twice before going head-first into the water. Sharks are some of the most impressive yet gruesome creatures lurking around the sea. Spielberg managed to capture their essence and our fears, even without even showing the beast for the majority of the film, relying on the image of its fin and John Williams’ classic score. 

After such a horror classic, other directors wanted to cash in with their own versions. Some did so by focusing on other marine predators, like Joe Dante with Piranha (and later on the horrid sequel by James Cameron). In contrast, others literally and figuratively jumped the shark and made things more ridiculous just for the sake of it. These films were made to be easy cash grabs that entertained via their over-the-top and cheesy demeanor, as well as filling the craving for the audience’s shark obsessions. But, over the years, these films have gotten even more baffling, hence the likes of the Sharknado franchise, Planet of the Sharks, and the recently released Cocaine Shark. That’s where the Jon Turtletaub film starring action-star Jason Statham, The Meg, comes into play – being one of the best in the bunch of silly and exaggerated shark pictures.

Five years have passed since Statham came face to face with a Megalodon (and won). Has enough time gone by for a rematch? Answers vary, depending on who you ask. I definitely think it is time for man and beast to fight one another once again; this time, anything goes. Whether you were anticipating it or not, a sequel to the underwater cheese and ham parade, Meg 2: The Trench, has arrived with the talented English filmmaker Ben Wheatley (Kill List, Highrise) at the helm. This one is more ridiculous and self-aware than the first installment… at least in its last twenty minutes or so. Unfortunately, it suffers from the same issues that made the 2018 blockbuster miss its B-movie mark: taking too long to get the shark action-slasher elements going, being unnecessarily two hours long, and focusing on the humans more so than the creatures themselves – the latter of these issues is what plagued the abominably creaky Godzilla vs. Kong back in 2021.

Meg 2: The Trench begins with a false statement: a small dinosaur is eaten by an even larger one, who seconds later is eaten by a Megalodon. You would think that with this introduction, the film would make more time for what all of us sitting at the theater want to see: seventy-five-foot sharks eating people for lunch and later seeing Jason Statham fight against them in a brutally illogical battle in the seas. Though, just like the first installment, its first scene promises something it can’t keep. Then it flash-forwards to the present day, where we get one plot exposition dump after the other, with some thrilling sequences intercut between them. Still, none deliver what we all want to begin with – we’d have to wait almost ninety minutes or so for that. 

This movie is set ten years after the first film. Jonas Taylor (Jason Statham) and company are still doing the regular secretive underwater exploration near the Mariana trench in the Mana One operation’s base. Not only are they keeping tabs on the megs lurking near those waters, but they are also researching the areas twenty-five-thousand feet deep. What they find down there is more shocking than a gigantic killer octopus; they spot an unseen base at the bottom of the trench, where some people are mining a rock that contains many minerals and combustibles. And when other fishy scenarios cross their paths, Taylor suspects they have been sabotaged by one of their own just to break the bank with these newly found sea stones.

All of this isn’t explained in full detail. In fact, the writers know that trying to make sense of everything that happens in the film isn’t going to work in their favor. So, they chose to give the implication of a story and go along the journey where we mostly see Statham growling his lines and punching faces left and right. And while I like to see that in the Transporter and Crank films, here it is the most bland and lazy version of such, to the point where it begins to bore the audience. It keeps you alert because the situations get more silly (and convoluted) by the second. Though, you end up laughing more at the movie than with it for its two acts. You start shouting internally: “When is the shark mayhem going to happen?” and “What’s taking so long for a shark to hunt its lunch?” 

What the poster promises arrives during the third act, and it is entertaining, yet it feels too late at this point in the story. After more than ninety minutes of wandering through the seas, Meg 2: The Trench finally begins showing the carnage and rampage, although with the high number of deaths during this closing act, rarely enough, there isn’t much blood being splattered. One of the best moments doesn’t last long, yet it managed to leave an impression on me; it is a POV shot from the megalodon’s mouth as it munches people down. That quick scene was utterly fantastic, leaving me with some bittersweet feelings because it represented what the film could have been and the beauty of B-movie practicality and ingenuity. There are other moments that you could say are pretty cool. However, we got too little for the price of admission because it wanted to use all of its characters (both disposable and so-called “heroes”) to fight some creatures, which leaves less time with Statham fighting megs and a giant octopus. 

Even when you consider Ben Wheatley’s talent, it doesn’t matter because you can barely notice that it was one of his films. He doesn’t have any wiggle room due to the screenplay, which takes its time to “develop the plot” so it can later embrace the craziness of its premise. If you are going to make a B-movie, or something similar, you need the Roger Corman effect – trim everything down to its bare essentials, cut it down to ninety minutes (or less), and grasp the brutality and chaos of its killers. Meg 2: The Trench is held back by its story when it should have ditched that to go all out with its true purpose of creature feature delights. It made me wonder if the people on board this multi-million-dollar ship knew what they were making in the first place. That’s why, despite receiving some gnarly, purposefully schlocky sequences, Meg 2: The Trench feels like yet another missed opportunity both by the studio and the filmmaker attached. 

Grade: C-

Op-Ed: Heat Waves: Films That Show People Melting Under The Sun

We are in the middle of a global heat wave where Miami has a heat index of 106 degrees and Montreal, where I recently visited, was under a heat warning of 91 degrees. Walking through the city before the rain cooled it all down, I could feel it and I’ve been around worse. Hence, I’m inside and I hope all of you are safe from the sun. In the movies, extreme heat has been portrayed as a perfect setting that reflects the personal nature of people besides being part of mother nature. It cannot be avoided, even when inside sometimes. Here are a few of those films where the heat can be sensed emanating off the screen onto us. 

Greed (1925)

Within the Erich von Stroheim masterpiece about a man who wins money and then becomes psychologically attached to every dollar, he has a punishing ending that rings poetic. In the desert, his two surviving male characters are fighting to kill each other with a bag of cash out of reach. For two months during the summer, production was shot in Death Valley, arguably the hottest place on Earth, during the summer, with temperatures well over 100 degrees. Wanting to be as authentic as possible, instead of being close to Los Angeles, the film was shot 100 miles from the nearest populated town with temperatures recorded to be as high as 123 degrees. Heat exhaustion was common and numerous members of the crew were sent back home to recover. 

Lawrence of Arabia (1962)

David Lean went all out in taking his film to the deserts of Spain, Morocco, and Jordan where the blistering heat is all on Super Panavision’s 65 mm. Sun blisters, thirst, and the difficulty of running through the dunes are all captured through the breathtaking cinematography of Freddie A. Young, who won an Oscar for his work. Sequences such as crossing the Sinai to reach the port town of Aqaba from behind, considered impossible and nicknamed, “The Devil’s Anvil,”, just drains the energy out of you to consider this crossing madness. Of course, the legendary jump cut of the sunrise captures how exotic Arabia can be, but the full sunshine captures its brutality. 

Walkabout (1971)

Nicholas Roeg made his directorial debut by going out into the Australian Outback and leading two children, who survive their father’s attempt to kill them, into the wilderness. Alone and struggling with thirst, an Aboriginal boy (the late, great David Gulpilil) finds them and takes them on his own trek where they survive through traditionalist ways. Roeg himself was a cinematographer and did the camerawork with all the hypnotic shots, capturing the allegory of the Garden of Eden with its counterculture themes of nature against modern civilization. 

Do The Right Thing (1989)

The heat of social consciousness and tempers matches the temperature of a summer’s day in Brooklyn, courtesy of Spike Lee. While fire is the consuming source of heat at the film’s climax, the actual sun causes people to toast and burn up their own personal feelings as their violent tendencies rise. To make it even more obvious, the street where the movie was shot had sets filled with red and orange to match the day. While the pizzeria was a set built on a lot, the ovens were actually functional. Everyone is looking for shade the best way they can, but there is no hiding.

The Hurt Locker (2009)

Katheryn Bigelow’s Oscar-winning war drama in Iraq zeroes in on a bomb unit squad who go in under the immediate threat of explosion to deactivate all weapons. Jeremy Renner made his breakthrough sweating heavily in his bomb suit as he has difficulty disarming all of them while his character shows off his ego by baking in the job. The heat does not bother him but certainly does his fellow soldiers under the constant pressure of ambush and the grotesque scenarios that threaten everyone. The scene that stands out the most is when the number of tons in the trunk of a car is discovered and Renner’s character drops his tools in shock. He takes off the suit, saying, “If I’m going to die, I wanna die comfortably.” 

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review: ‘Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem’ is a Shell Shocking Good Time


Directors: Jeff Rowe and Kyler Spears
Writers: Seth Rogen, Evan Goldberg, and Jeff Rowe
Stars: Ayo Edebiri, Jackie Chan, Brady Noon

Synopsis: The film follows the Turtle brothers as they work to earn the love of New York City while facing down an army of mutants.


There has never been a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles film that genuinely captured the original cartoon series’ humor, relatable characters, and innovative concept. One reason for this could be that the original series was ahead of its time and can now be viewed through a more socially conscious lens. Another reason is that the movies were subjected to corporate demands, prioritizing merchandising and product placement over crafting a story that could resonate with both the loyal fanbase and new audiences (especially evident in the rushed one-year turnaround of the sophomore follow-up effort, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze). However, the latest iteration, now led by a creative group of Turtleheads who respect and appreciate the mark that TMNT made on pop culture, returns to the roots of what made the Peter Laird and Kevin Eastman characters so special in the first place.

The story follows the four Turtle brothers, raised by Splinter (Jackie Chan), an anxious mutant rat suffering from crippling agoraphobia. Before mutating, however, his life takes on new meaning when he comes across his four sons, a tiny bale of little slowpokes covered in DNA-altering green ooze. He absorbs the stuff through his skin when he picks up the little hatchlings. He becomes a human-sized rat and watches videos to become skilled in ninjutsu by ordering VHS tapes over the phone (kids, this was the original YouTube university).

Raphael (Good Boys’ Brady Noon) is a turtle of action in the group with a rage problem that causes him to act first and think later. Michelangelo (The Chi’s Shamon Brown Jr.) is a charming, loquacious brother who can talk himself out of almost any situation. Then you have the tech-savvy Donatello (Micah Abbey), who constantly questions why his weapon of choice is just a big stick. Finally, you have Leonardo (The Fabelmans’ Nicolas Cantu), the group leader and truly loyal to his father’s wishes. As the little guys mutate and age, their father excuses why they should not interact with the human world.

Remember what Paul Newman’s John Rooney said in Road to Perdition? “Sons are put on the earth to trouble their fathers.” The boys love seeing movies in the park and people-watching. They witness the community and relationships being formed and want more out of this life of theirs, like going to school. That’s when they start to fight crime when they run into April (The Bear’s Ayo Edebiri), who has her scooter stolen by a chop shop operation with ties to an infamous villain named Superfly (Ice Cube), the head of a mysterious crime syndicate. If they help her, they hope to be heroes in the human world and be welcomed with open arms.

What sets apart this new cinematic version of TMNT are the genuine laughs, the message about acceptance and tolerance, and the quirky storytelling freed by the franchise returning to its animated roots. The credit should go to the deep bench of filmmakers and writers behind the production, which includes two sets of talented writing partners and a director known for one of the best-animated films of the decade, The Mitchells vs. the Machines, by Jeff Rowe. Throw in Superbad and Pineapple Express maestros Seth Rogen and Evan Goldberg, who co-wrote the script with The Tick and Detective Pikachu’s Dan Hernandez and Benji Samit’s writing team. With comedy zingers spewing from different angles that are super clever, even smart, and have a direct line to everyone’s funny bone. In particular, Jackie Chan’s Splinter—like Ashley Park said in Joy Ride, he’s a great father—and Raphael’s rage-filled turtle is amusing here. Not to mention Donatello reflecting on what we thought as kids and why we never wanted to play with him.

Also, there are more positives regarding the underlying themes when examining socioeconomic issues and at-risk groups, which accurately reflect the environment in which the cartoon takes place and are more attuned to the race and ethnicity patterns of New York City. For instance, changing the character of April O’Neill from Caucasian to a BIPOC is a refreshing and welcome pivot. (Eastman commented in a recent interview that the original concept of April was someone of APIDA descent but was later changed into a white female character.) Additionally, the script reflects acceptance, inclusiveness, overcoming adversity, empowerment, and even mentorship. This applies to the four main characters and the rival mutants, as they show two sides to every story. Also, the sudden new trend of 3D and 2D animation (Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse and Puss in Boots: The Last Wish) used here by Cinesite and Mikros Animation gives the film a sense of grittiness.  One of my mild complaints about the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem is the limitation on how far Rogen, Rowe, and the company were allowed to push the envelope regarding comedy. The simple explanation is that the movie is primarily for families, not adults, despite some dark undertones. (Remember, this is a joint Paramount and Nickelodeon production.) However, the film works because it treats the iconic pizza-loving characters not as comic book superheroes but as teenagers who yearn for acceptance and a father who just wants to keep them safe. Combining these elements with quirky characters, modern storytelling, socially conscious themes, and a unique point of view, there’s something for everyone in the latest TMNT film. It’s truly a “Shell Shockin'” good time for the entire family.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Talk To Me’ Proves That Horror is Alive and Well


Directors: Danny Philippou, Michael Philippou
Writers: Danny Philippou and Bill Hinzman
Stars: Sophie Wilde, Alexandra Jensen, Miranda Otto

Synopsis: When a group of friends discover how to conjure spirits using an embalmed hand, they become hooked on the new thrill, until one of them goes too far and unleashes terrifying supernatural forces.


Influencer culture has brought upon its tedious internet challenges, and in an era where everything is being captured on our phones, people will do almost anything to get their one second of fame. In Michael and Danny Philippou’s feature directorial debut, Talk To Me, the filmmakers explore what happens when one of those viral trends goes too far and has drastic consequences for those directly involved with it. 

Funnily enough, the Philippou brothers are famously known as RackaRacka, whose YouTube channel has amassed more than 1.16 billion views and 6.83 million subscribers. RackaRacka’s videos have always been amazingly dynamic and in-your-face, consistently pushing the boundaries on what’s acceptable for that sweet YouTube clout. They learned the hard way when Michael was arrested in 2019 after a video of them driving a deeply modified “underwater car” during a heatwave caught the attention of the South Australia Police. 

In Talk To Me, an internet challenge has caught the internet by storm, and it seemingly leads to disastrous results, with many of its participants experiencing unknown seizures with largely dilated pupils. However, most believe this challenge is completely made up and designed to scare viewers, and our protagonist, Mia (Sophie Wilde), is the first to try it among her friends. The challenge involves conjuring a spirit inside her using a mysterious embalmed hand while uttering, “Talk to me.” And while the initial experiences with the hand are thrilling, one goes wrong, and that’s when the Philippou brothers subvert the story to its head and deliver a terrifying time at the movies. 

Revealing more about Talk To Me’s plot would deprive you of the multiple surprises the brothers have in store. A festival darling (the film recently had its Canadian premiere at the Fantasia International Film Festival to a rapturous crowd), Talk To Me works with crowds because it’s scary. You have no idea which direction the story will go as soon as Mia says, “Talk to me.” It never gets comfortable in its storytelling. As soon as it shows signs of an uninspired plot, it immediately takes a drastic turn and never lets up, leading to one of the most unexpected endings I had seen in a long time that made the audience collectively gasp in amazement. 

That doesn’t mean that the film doesn’t have its fair share of predictable moments. Two are integral to its plot can be seen a mile away, slightly dampening the narrative. However, I would say that these predictable beats are important for the story at hand, as it’s the only logical way to move the journey forward to the way the Philippou brothers want to end it. It has a very specific (and shocking) opening, but everything naturally leans into its incredible final shot. And without those moments to carry the story forward, we wouldn’t have gotten something that no one will see coming. I’m usually good at spotting things coming a mile away, but even I was surprised. That’s usually the sign of a highly talented filmmaker (in this case, filmmakers) who knows what they must do to push the medium forward. 

In that regard, Talk To Me pushes horror forward in ways no one could imagine. The film succeeds in scaring audience members by using a plot structure everyone is familiar and comfortable with to slowly distort it as the characters slowly descend into utter madness. Again, no spoilers here, but its exploration of internet challenges and dares couldn’t have been more prescient, especially in an era where everyone is on their phones looking for the craziest (and stupidest) thing to do for invisible clout. 

Wilde is especially terrifying as Mia and is joined by an equally talented supporting cast, most notably Joe Bird’s Riley, who plays in the film’s most shocking scene. However, discussing both character arcs and their performances would mean spoiling some of the biggest secrets the Philippou brothers have closely guarded with this film. It’s even more impressive that no one revealed the plot’s meat and spoiled the entire thing after its Sundance premiere. However, that shows how respectful the audience is, wanting everyone to experience it for themselves. But take my word for it: Wilde is sensational and has a bright future after this release. 

Visually, the movie contains several expertly-crafted sequences, but its sound design is far more impressive and intricate. Finally, we’ve got an amazing horror movie to experience in a theater with great speakers that will put you into its story much further than its cinematography. As Talk to Me progresses, the more investing it becomes, leading into a final act that throws all preconceived expectations out of the window and keeps catching you off-guard, no matter how hard you try to be one step ahead of it. You can’t. It’s physically and mentally impossible. 

RackaRacka has crafted a horror film for the ages that will be remembered in ten years as one of the most important in the realm of independent horror. In an era in which most studio horror films lean on jumpscares for the sake of cheap thrills, the Philippou brothers refuse the status quo and have released something so deeply terrifying that you may be unable to turn your lights off at night, even if you’ve not decided to partake in the game. 

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Theater Camp’ is Refreshing and Sincere


Directors: Molly Gordon and Nick Lieberman
Writers: Noah Galvin, Molly Gordon, and Nick Lieberman
Stars: Ben Platt, Molly Gordon, Noah Galvin

Synopsis: The eccentric staff of a rundown theater camp in upstate New York must band together with the beloved founder’s bro-y son to keep the camp afloat.


I can easily see the appeal of Theater Camp. From reveling in its wacky artistic pride to the always reliably funny Jimmy Tatro continuing to do Jimmy Tatro things, the entire film practically screams critical niche hit. Not to mention, there’s probably nothing more adorable than watching a bunch of pubescents talk about their Strasberg method of fully embodying their roles physically, emotionally, and mentally. Then throw in a talented cast reveling in their roles; you have a movie that’s the love child of a one-night stand between a Christopher Guest-esque mockumentary and Wet Hot American Summer.

It’s that time again, and the “Adirondack ACTS” management is scrambling to fill their quota for the new summer theater camp season. This includes the camp’s founder, Joan Rubinsky (Amy Sedaris), and her manager, Rita Cohen (Caroline Aaron), who manipulate parents into signing their kids up quickly as slots are filling up. Joan is a legend in the children’s theater camp circuit, making it a shock to her staff when she falls into a coma after suffering a photosensitive seizure during an electric version of Bye Bye Birdie.

Fortunately, this becomes a galvanizing moment for the employees and kids. The camp counselors, led by the best friends Amos (Ben Platt) and Rebecca-Diane (Molly Gordon), rewrite the script to perform a play as a tribute to Joan’s contribution to their lives. They rough it without the modern trappings (like WiFi) and perks (like metal cutlery) of their rival camp next door. However, the situation turns when Joan’s dim-witted son, Troy (Tatro), shows up and discovers that the camp is facing foreclosure in the next week.

Directed by Gordon and Nick Lieberman, this is their first feature film and an adaptation of the short of the same name. They also wrote the script, along with Platt and the hilarious Noah Galvin, which is more of a story outline since all the dialogue was reportedly improvised. (According to published articles, the actors were given basic outlines to guide them through scenes.) The film has a genuine wit about it. For example, the play dedicated to their leader is titled “Joan, Still,” and Platt being mean to the tiniest of campers so they can draw upon that pain in their performances is hilariously droll.

For me, Galvin’s Glenn, the camp’s jack-of-all-trades handyman and technical director, has some of the film’s funniest scenes. For instance, when he tries to explain to Troy the difference between a “straight play” and a musical, when Troy misunderstands the type of play for an orientation, the timing of his response is priceless. Frankly, moments like this make the whole script being improvised much more impressive. I should also highlight the cameo by Minari’s Alan Kim, who is part of the camp’s agent training program. 

While Tatro never fails to be funny, the storyline of his relationship with the rival camp’s lawyer (Together, Together’s Patti Harrison) feels like they exhausted all their improvised skills. It’s the weakest part of the story when it should be the main crux. While I can admire it for veering away from basic genre story structures and it can feel perhaps even refreshing in how it wraps up that plot point with a simple intertitle, the result still feels like a shortcut. And make no mistake, while Tatro’s Troy represents the viewers who are in the dark about all the inside humor that comes with theater camp’s theatrics, the film is too narrow, even with its unique point of view, to be embraced by mass audiences. And that’s fine, though, because Theater Camp is not for everyone; it works for the audience it was made for. However, as I walked away from Gordon, Lieberman, Platt, and Galvin’s film, I thought the movie had more to offer than meets the eye. This refreshing, charming, and unabashedly sincere film presents a common theme of community. If anything, that should be celebrated, if not praised, because it’s a rarity in cinema nowadays – unafraid to be what it is, proving we have more in common than we think.

Grade: B

Criterion Releases: August 2023

This August, while one film is getting the 4K re-issue, two new films and a collection of a director’s blitzing work joins the Criterion. The collection comes from a Swedish director who made his nation look to more realistic ways of the world with his four movies sympathizing with the working-class people. Wayne Wang gets his second film on the Criterion Channel with another independent story about Chinese-American identity. Japanese master Akira Kurosawa sees one of his most sentimental films, and a virtually unknown American indie gets re-released for all to experience for the first time.

Bo Widerberg’s New Swedish Cinema (1963-69)

In contrast to fellow countryman Ingmar Bergman’s dramas of love and religious symbolism, Bo Widerberg made his mark with socially conscious films based on true stories that breathed new life into Sweden’s cinema. These four films are from a very timely era in the world that went after conventions of relationships in working-class settings. His feature debut, The Baby Carriage, follows a young woman who suddenly becomes pregnant and tries to start her life independently. His cinematographer was Jan Truell, himself later a major director in the late 60s and 70s. His follow-up, Raven’s End, is loosely based on his upbringing in the 1930s, following a young man who wants to get out of his dead-end town for something bigger in the city. This was a story reminiscent of the kitchen sink realism from Britain in the late 50s.

Moving to color films, Widerberg would gain an international reputation with two true stories that reflected his growing political tunes. Elvira Madigan follows the titular character, a circus performer, who has won the heart of an army lieutenant, a man married with children, who abandons all to go with her elsewhere. Even being chased down by authorities won’t stop them, but with little money, the freedom they desire may indeed, and their love will end. In 1969, Widerberg’s most political film, Adelen 31, won the Grand Prix at Cannes and was nominated at the Oscars. It portrays a working-class family who gets caught up in labor unrest that ends in tragedy as people are shot down by military forces. 

Dim Sum: A Little Bit Of Heart (1985)

Following the success of Chan Is Missing, writer-director Wayne Wang followed it up with a story about the gulf between generations within a Chinese-American family. Actual mother-daughter Kim and Laureen Chew star together as the mother who clings to tradition when she is foretold that she will die in the new year while the daughter has her own plans that don’t include her mother. It is a film that uses similar techniques as one of Wang’s favorite directors, Yasujirō Ozu, emphasizing the separation between child and parent.

Dreams (1990)

Akira Kurosawa’s final masterpiece consists of segments that have occurred to him in his sleep and with a common character throughout that represents Kurosawa. These eight episodes are set in different places and time periods, moods of how the director had felt when he was a young boy, a young man during World War II, or hiking in the mountains. One episode is a moment when the Kurosawa representative finds himself in the middle of a field with Vincent Van Gogh, played by Martin Scorsese. It is endearing to Kurosawa as his own type of autobiography in revealing who he really was about. 

Drylongso (1998)

In Oakland, a young art student goes out on the streets to take photographs of vulnerable people, namely women who are victims of violence. When an apparent serial killer is found to be present, the student realizes the victims are people whom she has taken pictures of. Director Cauleen Smith made a big statement on the gender differences between Black men and women and how men were not seen as abusers, influenced by her volunteer work in Oakland. However, it never got the proper recognition past Sundance acclaim and now it is here 25 years later. 

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Movie Review: ‘Cobweb’ Cannot End Soon Enough


Director: Samuel Bodin
Writer: Chris Thomas Devlin
Stars: Lizzy Caplan, Woody Norman, Antony Starr

Synopsis: Horror strikes when an eight-year-old boy named Peter tries to investigate the mysterious knocking noises that are coming from inside the walls of his house and a dark secret that his sinister parents kept hidden from him.


*This piece was written during the 2023 WGA and SAG-AFTRA strikes. Without the labor of the writers and actors currently on strike, the movie being covered here wouldn’t exist.*

You’d be fine not to know that, amidst the Barbenheimer craze, Lionsgate quietly dumped Cobweb in select theaters before a wide expansion on July 28. The release is so limited that the “select” theaters may only play the film once or twice per day, almost as if the studio doesn’t want you to see the movie. I wouldn’t think there’s a conspiracy, but it is strange how a movie starring top talent can’t muster up a wide release, especially with how great horror has performed in a post-COVID moviegoing era. 

No, really. Just recently, the low-budget Insidious: The Red Door obliterated its box office prospects and became one of the most profitable studio releases of the year so far. While Cobweb’s budget is currently unknown, it could’ve attracted an audience that might’ve not wanted to partake in the Barbenheimer and wanted actual thrills in front of a screen. But even then, it’s understandable why Lionsgate released it with little to no fanfare (this decision was made before the SAG-AFTRA strike) because the film is barely watchable. 

I’ll try not to spoil the movie for the two people who want to see it, but the reception has been rather divisive. The screenplay by 2022 Texas Chainsaw Massacre’s Chris Thomas Devlin was on the 2018 Black List and picked up by Lionsgate and Point Grey in 2020. It focuses on Peter (Woody Norman), a young boy who suddenly hears noises in his room. He, of course, gets scared, but his parents (Antony Starr and Lizzy Caplan) reassure him that everything’s fine. 

That’s all I will say about the main plot because the rest unravels itself as if you should be going into the movie as cold as possible. Maybe it’s best that you don’t watch a piece of footage from the film and let it play out on its own, but Cobweb makes the cardinal mistake of having way too many red herrings to misdirect the audience consistently. You’re allowed one or two fake-outs. However, when the entire movie is based on one red herring after the other, you’ve completely lost the audience by the twenty-minute mark.

Cobweb starts as a supernatural thriller, then delves into a psychological drama, becomes a full-fledged horror movie, and turns into a supernatural thriller by the film’s end. It has no idea what it wants to be or what it wants to say: it keeps introducing seemingly important plot points (such as a young girl being brutally murdered in Peter’s neighborhood on Halloween night), only for them to be dropped precipitously as a new plot point gets introduced. At 88 minutes, the film can craft something compelling if it focuses on one specific plot point. Unfortunately, the director seems too desperate to impress and thinks constant misdirection is what makes a great horror film. It doesn’t, and by the time the movie ended in one of the most baffling ways, my patience was wearing thin. 

So many characters make eye-rolling decisions that no human in this situation would ever do. Yes, watching any movie requires suspension of disbelief, and some will say I’m hypocritical for saying this because I gave Fast X an A- on this site. But Cobweb isn’t Fast X – Bodin presents the movie as a grounded supernatural thriller anchored by the performances of its three main characters. And yet, several decisions that Peter make are so ridiculous that none of the audience members I was with reacted with shock but instead,  massive laughter. 

And if it weren’t for the great performances of Lizzy Caplan and Antony Starr, who have tons of fun playing the creepiest parents you’ve seen in a minute, I would’ve checked out on Cobweb long ago. Starr, in particular, is terrifically effective as Peter’s father. One scene involving Peter’s substitute teacher, Miss Devine (Cleopatra Coleman), is particularly bone-chilling, as it could’ve shifted the entire movie differently. Though for fans of The Boys, it’s of no surprise that  Starr can exude the most uncomfortable vibes, and he seems to push Homelander’s approach to the extreme here. It works wonders, but Caplan goes the extra mile during its final act. Again, not to spoil anything, but the squeamish won’t particularly enjoy a certain dinner scene…

Apart from that, Cobweb does little to impress. If you’ve done the Barbenheimer and are looking for something new, stay home and watch They Cloned Tyrone instead, another movie that smartly uses its red herrings to draw you into the movie instead of wanting it desperately to end. 

Grade: D-

Movie Review: ‘Stephen Curry: Underrated’ is Family Friendly, but Uninspired


Director: Peter Nicks
Stars: Stephen Curry, Bob McKillop, Jason Richards

Synopsis: The coming-of-age story of Stephen Curry, from an undersized basketball player at a small college, to becoming a larger-than-life NBA superstar.


The new Apple TV+ documentary follows the underdog story of Stephen Curry. After reading this first line, you would expect Curry to come from something other than a professional basketball pedigree, but you would be wrong. The son of Dell Curry, who was a first-round pick who played for sixteen years in the NBA and was the all-time leader in points and three-point shots made in the history of the Charlotte Hornets. Yet, Stephen was shorter than his father and slimmer than a thin mint, and virtually all major Division I programs ignored him because of his fragile frame. Even Dell’s alma mater, Virginia Tech, passed on his son, thinking he could never survive playing big-time college basketball. Yet, Curry has gone on to be a four-time NBA champion and two-time most valuable player for the Golden State Warriors, and the all-time leader in three-point shots made in league history. So, how did Stephen go from a recruiting afterthought to the most prolific three-point shooter in league history? Meet Stephen’s left hand, “grit,” and his right hand, “determination,” and the result is the smoothest stroke on a jump shot the world has ever seen.

Stephen Curry: Underrated follows the modern NBA legend through two different timelines. Starting from the beginning of his 2022 season, he was injury-plagued, but leads to his setting an NBA record and winning his fourth championship. The other timeline takes us back to his days as a high school player who fought and clawed his way to a Division I scholarship offer from a small private liberal arts school in North Carolina called Davidson College. And when we say tiny, we mean it because the school has fewer than two thousand students enrolled. Playing in one of the lowest-rated Division I college basketball conferences, Southern (the school has moved on and upgraded since, playing in the Atlantic 10), it appeared Curry would have a challenging time carving a niche for himself at the college level, let alone a professional one, but he did. Leading Davidson to an improbable run to the “Elite Eight” in the 2008 NCAA tournament before bowing out to the eventual champions, the Kansas Jayhawks.

Of course, this is a remarkable and classic David versus Goliath tale, akin to any classic sports story like The Rookie, Miracle, and The Blind Side. Except this is told in documentary form, and director Peter Nicks (Homeroom, The Force) and producer Ryan Coogler interweave both timelines into an exciting and suspenseful narrative. The result rewards the viewer, who witness two unbelievable runs that cement Curry’s place in basketball lore. 

Nicks builds suspense by mirroring each timeline. For instance, Curry’s ankle injuries during his rookie year in the NBA and his disastrous opening game shooting slump versus a small basketball program in a preseason-opening game in Eastern Michigan which nearly derailed his college career before it started. Both show his career trajectory on the amateur and professional levels; that’s distinct and not exactly cinematic when most studios are looking for a cyclical narrative that usually determines what stories are worth telling.

That being said, this is a straightforward experience, and even the most apathetic sports fan would not read the story of “The Baby-Faced Assassin,” “Chef Curry,” or my favorite, “The Human Torch.” The documentary is hardly cinema verité and has moments, especially in direct interviews, with a puff-piece feel that is standard in mass audience-aimed documentary films on streaming platforms. Think Jennifer Lopez’s Halftime or Shaun White: Last Run, and nothing close to the Oscar-winning documentary When We Were Kings because this film glorifies appreciation and doesn’t show warts. That could be because there is simply nothing to tell, or because Curry’s career is still thriving. Nicks could have made some headway in showing what it takes to become an NBA champion, but we are only briefly told about how Curry changed his shot and a small moment of the MVP’s workout routine. In short, you must truly understand the sacrifice and commitment it takes to collect Curry’s hardware, and that’s never fulfilled here.

Some of that is replaced by a good message, such as Curry finishing his degree fourteen years after leaving Davidson College a year early to enter the NBA draft. You have to admire that determination, on top of his professional athletic accomplishments and the point the filmmakers (assuming the subject’s desire) wanted to make by including that journey. That makes Stephen Curry: Underrated a perfect family documentary for sports fans and anyone inspired by someone accomplishing their dreams.

Just not as insightful as one could hope.

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Haunted Mansion’ Ghosts on Scares and Laughs


Director: Justin Simien
Writer: Katie Dippold
Stars: Rosario Dawson, LaKeith Stanfield, Tiffany Haddish

Synopsis: A single mom named Gabbie hires a tour guide, a psychic, a priest and a historian to help exorcise her newly bought mansion after discovering it is inhabited by ghosts.


Coming off the heels of his 2008 hit sequel Hellboy II: The Golden Army, Guillermo del Toro announced at the 2010 San Diego Comic-Con that he would be directing Haunted Mansion. Of course, this wouldn’t be the first time the Disney ride has made its way to the big screen, as only a few years before this announcement, the original The Haunted Mansion film starring Eddie Murphy would defy poor ratings to become a Disney classic. Sadly, it never seemed like Disney and del Toro could get on the same page regarding what the film should be, and even though he left the project, the idea of a remake never left Disney’s mind. Now, 13 years after the initial reboot/remake announcement, Haunted Mansion (no “the” to emphasize a difference between the two films) is finally making its way to the big screen.

Haunted Mansion kicks off with Ben Matthias (Lakeith Stanfield), a former astrophysicist turned New Orleans ghost tour guide, giving a tour to a rather obnoxious group. Matthias isn’t a friendly person and chooses to live his life alone drinking away whatever money he has left. Meanwhile, Gabbie (Rosario Dawson) and her son Travis (Chase Dillon) are moving into a Louisiana mansion to get a fresh start on life. They quickly realize that their new home isn’t entirely theirs and is haunted by several ghosts.

Father Kent (Owen Wilson) finds Matthias at his home informing the tour guide of the problems going on at the mansion and trying to get him to use a special camera lens he invented that can take pictures of astral projections, or ghosts. Matthias is a strong non-believer in ghosts and chooses to do so after hearing that he will be paid for his time at the house. However, when he leaves the house he quickly finds out that once you step foot on the property the ghost will latch on to you not allowing you to leave. Father Kent and Matthias devise a plan to figure out what the ghosts need and to either send them on to the next life or banish them from this one. To do so, they recruit a medium named Harriet and Bruce Davis, a professor that wrote a book about hauntings throughout Louisiana, to try to put an end to the hauntings.

Making a movie based on an attraction with little story is tough, don’t get me wrong, but it is something that has been proven to work. In 2003, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl picked up 5 Oscar nominations, including one for Best Actor, and more recently 2021’s Jungle Cruise was able to receive relatively positive reviews and even spawned a sequel. So, it just makes it more frustrating, and confusing, when a film with this star power manages to crash and burn as hard as Haunted Mansion does.

Loaded with talent from Oscar nominee Lakeith Stanfield, Oscar winners Jamie Lee Curtis and Jared Leto, and other great and well-known actors Owen Wilson, Rosario Dawson, Tiffany Haddish, and Danny Devito, one would think they would be able to find some sort of balance between their performances. However, Haunted Mansion proves that no matter how much star power you might have in front of the camera, it doesn’t mean the chemistry will be there among the actors, none of whom knew what movie they were making as there would be bad jokes mixed with full-on dramatic “Oscar-bait” performances all within the same scene.

But the tonal discrepancies didn’t stop with the actors, the entire film itself felt as though it never knew what it wanted to be. Even for an obvious child-friendly/family movie, the horror felt too tame to really bring out any sort of fear; even the original The Haunted Mansion provided some genuine scares. The humor in Katie Dippold’s script – who has worked on some genuinely funny projects including Parks and Recreation and The Heat – was based more on awkward and cringey moments instead of actually being funny. Not even the emotional beats could save this story as they were so egregiously forced in, it felt manipulative to the scene and, in a way, funnier than most of the jokes.

Haunted Mansion is a full-on mess of a movie. While there might be a few laughs here and there – the intent of them is still up for debate – and a small amount of safe horror, nothing could redeem the lackluster script and all-over-the-place performances. Maybe this film will appeal to fans of the amusement park a little more, but for me, it was a massive miss that feels better suited for Disney+ than a theatrical run.

Grade: D-

Op-Ed: “It’s Been A Rough Year”: Andersonian Grief, An Introduction

There’s a cliched opinion amongst cinephiles that the films of Wes Anderson are the epitome of style over substance. Those who have that opinion want us to believe that as a filmmaker, Anderson lacks human depth or empathy. What they fail to see are the cracks in Anderson’s perfect worlds. They don’t see the tragedy amongst the hijinks of these heightened scenarios. Because within these beautifully built tapestries is a strong sense of grief. In fact, all of Anderson’s films deal with grief in one way or another.

It’s not always a grief of humans mourning the mortality of other humans. Though, there are several examples of those. It’s more than that with examples ranging from a loss of self to a loss of purpose to a loss of friendship and finally, overarchingly, the nagging grief that persists with nostalgia. Grief permeates the essence of every one of Wes Anderson’s films. It’s the catalyst of the action and the resolution of the climax.

When I first discovered this theme of grief in Wes Anderson’s films I was in a period of grief myself. I wasn’t looking for it, I was looking for an escape. I popped my disc of Fantastic Mr. Fox in and as the film progressed, a bespoke filament light bulb went on above my head. I suddenly filtered what each character was going through with the feeling of my own pain. I went through the other Anderson films in my collection and I found the same sense within each of them.

After seeing the trailer for Asteroid City, I knew it would not only follow the same theme, but its message would be overt. I wasn’t disappointed. Since Asteroid City is still in many movie theaters I won’t go into too much detail, but there is a scene within it that perfectly encapsulates how Anderson filters grief through his lens. It’s a scene within the framing story of the play in which two characters discuss a scene that we will never see acted out. In their discussion, the emotion of the ideas inherent in the unfilmed scene hit as if we had actually seen it. It works so perfectly and is so beautifully idiosyncratic of an Anderson film.

That particular scene inspired me to share my research into Andersonian grief in all its forms. At first I intended to dissect each second within each individual film. Quickly, I became aware of how daunting that task would become, likely losing the patience of any readers in the weeds of Anderson’s less beloved films. So instead I will be dissecting grief as it appears within Anderson’s films using a model developed by psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. 

Each piece in the series will be built around one of the stages of grief. I’ll start with denial, then go to anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. Anderson’s filmography is rife with examples for each of these stages. Though, I will avoid any discussion of Asteroid City as there are people who wait for things to be streaming directly to their television for some reason. 

I will also be strict in my views as a practical critic. Which is to say I subscribe to the literary theory that leaves out any outside context or authorial intent and focuses only on the text of what happens within the runtime. These essays will be examinations of the films as they are, not a profile of why Wes Anderson may have presented them this way or what in his past or his development of his works could have influenced how the film is presented. I won’t even turn this series into an appreciation of how Anderson, time and again is recognizing the versatility and presence of Adrien Brody like no one else behind the camera today. That’s a different series entirely.

I hope through this series I can break through the notions of those opinionated few who ruin the joy of Wes Anderson for the rest of us. I also hope it helps you to see some of the wonderful hidden depths inside the beautifully crafted films Wes Anderson creates. 

Movie Review: ‘Barbie’ Makes Imperfection Perfect


Director: Greta Gerwig
Writers: Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach
Stars: Margot Robbie, Ryan Gosling, Issa Rae

Synopsis: Barbie suffers a crisis that leads her to question her world and her existence.


It was July of 2019 when Greta Gerwig was first announced as the director and co-writer – alongside her partner Noah Baumbach – of an upcoming film about the renowned children’s doll, Barbie. At that time, the world was in a much different place. No one could have expected that a global lockdown would happen within a year of this announcement, forcing everyone on Earth to put their careers, relationships, and lives on hold. It was the darkest of times and through some media made during it (Bo Burnham’s Inside for example), it showed how many people had to question whether to give up or keep fighting. It was during these dire times that both Gerwig and Baumbach sat down to work on the script – the first one they had co-written since 2013’s Frances Ha – and from it came what many actors who signed on to the project called, “the best script they had ever read.”

Barbie begins with Helen Mirren narrating over a magnificent homage to Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey informing the audience of what Barbie represented: a change in women’s history. No longer did young girls have to play with baby dolls trapped in the sole role of serving as a mother, and now these girls had the ability to dream and be whoever and whatever they wanted to be. Barbie was never just about a doll, but an idea poised to reshape the mindset of children worldwide. She could be a mother, if you wanted, or she could be a doctor, lawyer, teacher, or even the president. The idea of women having a sole purpose in the world was torn apart and in its place was a new world where anything could be possible.

This world of Barbieland was a perfect society run by women and for women, and it is in Barbieland where we first meet Stereotypical Barbie (Margot Robbie in one of the most fitting roles of her career). This Barbie is the most generic in that she is the basis of what Barbie was meant to be. She wakes up in the morning – already beautiful of course – waves to her friends and gets ready for the day before floating down to her car and heading off to spend a day in Barbieland. She doesn’t have a specific job like some of the other Barbies in the city, but she loves everyone and spends as much time with the people around her. This sometimes includes the Kens of the city including the prominent Ken (played perfectly by Ryan Gosling, and also who will be the central Ken of reference unless stated otherwise) and his foil Ken (Simu Liu), but for Barbie, Ken is more of an afterthought than anything. Everything is perfect, as it always is, until during a blowout party at Stereotypical Barbie’s house, she brings up the question of if anyone ever thinks about dying – something that is far out of the realm of possibility for everyone in Barbieland.

This first thought has a ripple effect through Barbie’s everyday life – her shower is cold, her waffles come out burnt, and worst of all… her feet are flat to the surface of the ground. This prompts her to visit a Barbie that spends her days getting destroyed and put back together again giving her a strange look and prompting her name, Weird Barbie (Kate McKinnon). Weird Barbie informs her that every Barbie has a person on the other side playing with them and that for Stereotypical Barbie, her person is feeling a sense of pain and sadness that is now rubbing off onto her. Weird Barbie informs her that the only way for her life to return to normal is to venture into the Real World and find out what is causing her person pain, and help them resolve it. 

She, and Ken who initially hides away in order to come with her, journey into the Real World, but even upon arrival it is clearly not what they had intended. Basically the opposite of Barbieland in every way, the pair find out that in the Real World, men are the ones in charge and women are seen as objects. This is something that piques his interest, as for the first time in his existence he feels seen on a broad scale; it’s also something that fills her with fear and anger as, for the first time in her existence, she is seen for what she is not who she is. As Barbie is searching through her memories to find the person who needs her the most, Ken heads off to discover what this world truly is, and what he winds up learning is just how male-dominated it is. Feeling a new sense of power, he heads back to Barbieland taking his newfound discovery of the patriarchy with him, while she continues her search that takes her to Mattel, the company that distributes the Barbie doll.

The Mattel executives have dealt with this situation before and plan to put Barbie back into her box, but she escapes, leading her to Gloria (an excellent America Ferrera) and her daughter Sasha (Ariana Greenblatt) who travel with Barbie back to Barbieland to find that it has been overrun by the Kens, brainwashing all of the Barbies in the process. Barbie, Gloria, Sasha, and Weird Barbie all must devise a plan to overthrow the Kens, save the Barbies, and reclaim their world.

Between remakes, spin-offs, adaptations, and IP, film nowadays is losing its originality more than ever. However, if there is anything Greta Gerwig has proven over her four features as a director it’s that she can take a project or an idea people might think they know, and alter it in such a way that feels more personal than 99% of media being released every day. From a directing standpoint, she has always been an actor’s director (which makes sense given her background as an actor herself) but with Barbie, she expands her gaze even further as she is able to swiftly move between a variety of upbeat scenes, whether it be a dance sequence, car chase, full-on action/war/Ken off, while also maintaining the intimacy that made her previous two films (Lady Bird and Little Women) so appealing to audiences. Her framing and attention to detail not only in making sure the impeccable production design by Sarah Greenwood is fully utilized but that Jacqueline Durran’s impressive costume design gets time in the spotlight, proves her ability behind the camera, and continues to show her growth as a filmmaker.

However, it’s the script – which feels like more of a collaborative effort between Gerwig and Baumbach than I had initially assumed – that truly excels in finding the balance between absurdity and humanity. At times, Barbie is the funniest film and most insane film of the year. With direct references to both toxic masculinity and fandom, pop-up music and dance numbers, Mattel itself, as well as other corporations, and some of the most clever lines of dialogue of the year, this film could have been a full-on comedy and worked perfectly fine. Nevertheless, as both Gerwig and Baumbach know how to do so well, there is genuine pathos, and whether it be Barbie’s journey of self-discovery or Ken’s of self-deprecation, the theme throughout of not only being who you are and that being enough but about not letting your pain define who you are, instead allowing it to be one of the many things that makes a person human, brings genuine emotion that is both unexpected and fully earned.

Leading the film, Margot Robbie continues to prove why she is one of the most interesting actors working. The journey that she goes through during the film is elevated by her commitment to the role, and to bringing something different and unique to this character. America Ferrera delivers the best performance of her career, including a perfect and showstopping monologue that will likely be one of the best single-scene performances of the year. However, it’s Ryan Gosling, who is one of the funniest actors in Hollywood, as Ken that truly steals the show. In one of the most perfectly cast roles in the history of cinema, Gosling sings, dances, and commits himself to the role in a way that is at times hilarious and other times sincere in a way that only he can. Ken longs for the day that Barbie will want him and through childish outbursts and two pairs of sunglasses to hide his pain. He longs to be appreciated, loved, and seen as someone who is good enough. Displaying all of this, Gosling delivers a career-best performance that works on every level and one that deserves awards consideration as one of the best performances of the year.


As Barbie is coming to a close she is given a choice, and through Billie Eilish’s masterful song “What Was I Made For?,” the themes and ideas that encompassed the wonderfully paced hour and fifty-four minutes are discovered, and all of the questions that she had are finally answered. Ever since she first hit shelves in March of 1959, Barbie has always been perfect. She had a perfect look, many perfect jobs, perfect friends, a perfect boyfriend, and overall a perfect life. But the idea of Barbie was never about perfection, but about the hope that a small piece of plastic could bring to an imperfect world, and the possibility for every little girl to be able to tell their own story. Greta Gerwig’s masterpiece will forever be remembered for using one of the most recognizable brands in the world to show that imperfection and uncertainty are what really make life worth living, and your story worth telling.

Grade: A+

Op-Ed: Biopics That Blinded Us With Science

Christopher Nolan’s highly anticipated Oppenheimer based on the man who is called “the father of the atom bomb” is more than just about his scientific efforts. It is about a person who knew what he was doing was world-altering and became, as he would put it, “Death, the destroyer of worlds.” On top of that, the politics that shaped his life and how it would be later used against him was just another layer into this genius who, to some aspect, was cursed with his pursuit of a horrifying weapon that only made the creation of more dangerous weapons that exist today. This film will just be another interesting figure in a line of several noted biopics about such complex humans and their contributions to the sciences. 

The Story Of Louis Pasteur (1936)

Paul Muni won the Oscar for Best Actor for his portrayal of the world-famous microbiologist whose research in 19th-century France helped shape the medical world for more than a century. While the film is a more fictitious version of his life, certain realities, such as his conflicts with the medical establishment over his experiments with vaccines (like today) and the lack of medical license, were very much true. The film, which was nominated for Best Picture, has that outdated quality you would expect from a mid-30s drama, but Muni gave arguably his best performance in a decade where he was arguably the best dramatic actor of his time. 

The Day After Trinity (1980)

If you can watch this before seeing Oppenheimer, you can know the true story and get even better insight into who J. Robert Oppenheimer was. This documentary was nominated for an Oscar and won a Peabody Award, using archive footage and interviewed many of those who knew Oppenheimer and his wife and their importance to the development of nuclear physics. The film’s title refers to when Oppenheimer was asked what could’ve been done to stop the nuclear race, to which he replied that it was too late and that it should’ve been done that day after the first nuclear explosion test. 

A Brief History Of Time (1991)

Another documentary, but another wonderful film that gave insight into one of the smartest men in recent years and one who was an important part of popular culture.. Stephen Hawking, the theoretical cosmologist who was widely seen in a wheelchair with a computerized voice, publicized his bestselling book of the same name, which he then expanded on his theory to director Errol Morris. The film intercuts his beliefs with his personal life, defying the odds to even be alive at this point, and what it means to understand everything about the world that many of us can only dream of knowing.

The Imitation Game (2014)

There were two biopics about scientists in the same year. One, The Theory of Everything, was about Hawking, his marriage, and his battle with motor neuron disease. It’s fine, but it is this story about Alan Turing that I really loved. I am a defender of this film and I still enjoyed it on my last rewatch. With Graham Moore’s Oscar-winning script and Grade A performances by Benedict Cumberbatch and Keira Knightley, the story of Turing, a brilliant mathematician who helped break the Enigma code in World War II, is enthralling and a sad tale about a figure in history who was unfairly persecuted despite his heroic efforts.

Hidden Figures (2016)

This feel-good story about three African-American women who worked with NASA is a case of, “Oh, I didn’t know that!” As much as we knew about astronaut John Glenn and the first crewed spaceflight, the story of NASA not always having computers, but intellectuals in the Space Task Group who were also dealing with general discrimination was not part of general history books. Yes, there were inaccuracies and that fictional scene created a “white savior” moment, but the importance of these three women in this entertaining movie starring Taraji P. Henson, Octavia Spencer, and Janelle Montae are hidden figures no more.

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review: ‘They Cloned Tyrone’ Doubles as Social Satire


Director: Juel Taylor
Writers: Tony Rettenmaier and Juel Taylor
Stars: John Boyega, Jamie Foxx, Kiefer Sutherland

Synopsis: A series of eerie events thrusts an unlikely trio onto the trail of a nefarious government conspiracy in this pulpy mystery caper.


From true cinephiles to your lukewarm movie ticket buyer, fans will wax poetic about Barbie and Oppenheimer this week (and they absolutely should), the most talked-about movie battle since Jurassic Park and Last Action Hero. However, scanning social media platforms for a group of dedicated movie buffs who claim to be socially conscious and advocate for those at-risk groups that face various challenges and injustices seem to have failed to talk about the most audacious, thought-provoking, hilarious, and downright brilliant Netflix film, They Cloned Tyrone. A cerebral entertainment with a bold screenplay that turns the dark comic social satire on its head, and features John Boyega giving the best performance of his career.

The film starts with Boyega trying to track down a local pimp named Slick (Jamie Foxx), who is light on his receivables this week. After confronting one of his “contracted” employees, he leaves, only to be gunned down violently and repeatedly in the motel parking lot. However, he wakes up the next day free of bullet holes, and when Slick explains what happened, Fontaine has no idea what he’s talking about.  With the help of one of Slick’s worker bees, Yo-Yo (a hilarious Teyonah Parris), a Carolyn Keene enthusiast, asks herself, “What would Nancy Drew do?”

Hilariously, this code to live by generally works for them, as they find themselves in Stranger Things-like territory without the Demogorgon and more comedic. Something spooky is happening as the trio runs across some creepy things, like a black SUV that nabs random neighborhood residents while they run for their lives. Even secret laboratories are located under such community gathering places as a church, the local restaurant specializing in fried chicken, and a check-cashing outlet. Each is filled with, as Slick describes, “White guys with afros.” All are part of a nefarious organization studying and cloning people like Tyrone to reaffirm stereotypes at the hands of those in power.

Are we living in the golden age of modern social satire? Movies like Get Out, Us, Nope, and Bad Hair, have been eye-opening and relevant and tell a socially conscious story within the horror genre. Directed by Juel Taylor, who co-wrote the script with Tony Rettenmaier, they spin their script into a hysterical, biting, blaxploitation satire on urbanization and how dealing with the concept of race plays an essential role in the reproduction of patterns of power and inequality. It’s as if Taylor and Rettenmaier took the concept through the lens of Mustafa Emirbayer and Matthew Desmond’s The Racial Order (2015). Their script offers a biting comedy about cultural symbolism, a sense of community, and social interactions regarding the allure of power.

Here, the film’s villains, led by a seething and wicked Kiefer Sutherland, do not use their observations of this community as a way of better understanding a culture or community they know nothing about to bridge the gap, but to keep circumstances in their favor. To steal a term from the above scholars, “white/non-white polarity” tells the story of “two poles of racial dominance.” To keep white privilege in their favor—you see the agency’s motto in 1950s propaganda of winning the race, and they don’t mean the one to the moon—by manipulating social organization, deconstructing cultural symbolism, and fostering unity.

And yet, it’s wrapped in a whip-smart, gut-busting comedy that owes most of its humor not only to Taylor and Rettenmaier’s script but also to the incredible amount of chemistry between the three leads. In particular, when Fox and Parris, Slick, and Yo-Yo steal every scene together, Parris’s character is the fearless combination of Boyega’s fearless attitude and Slick’s craven instincts. Fox is hilarious here; no one puts a comedic stamp on a loquacious character (see Ali). All three let the barbs fly, as do the film’s funky score and peppered, well-chosen needle drops, which make the experience all the more enjoyable. However, They Cloned Tyrone is driven by the magnetic Boyega, who plays multiple versions of the titular character as stoic, purposeful, and vigilant, like in an unhinged version of Multiplicity that examines what it’s like to be viewed through a critical white lens. A wicked version of The Truman Show. It’s a blend of dark humor and a profound exploration of human behavior when labels are thrust upon us unfairly, and we cannot escape. Juel Taylor’s movie is not just one of the year’s best satires but one of the best films of 2023.

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Oppenheimer’ Offers an Explosive, Complex Tale


Director: Christopher Nolan
Writers: Christopher Nolan, Kai Bird, and Martin Sherwin
Stars: Cillian Murphy, Emily Blunt, Matt Damon

Synopsis: The story of American scientist J. Robert Oppenheimer and his role in the development of the atomic bomb.


Christopher Nolan, one of the most prominent directors in today’s film industry, returns with a compelling historical drama following a challenging attempt to keep theaters alive during the pandemic with his film, Tenet. Known for his diverse repertoire, which includes grand sci-fi stories like Inception and Interstellar, as well as historical epics such as Dunkirk; Nolan now delves into the iconic Manhattan Project and the central figure behind it, J. Robert Oppenheimer.

The film’s three-act structure expertly explores different aspects encompassing the events leading up to, the development of, and the aftermath of the atomic bomb, offering a well-rounded and nuanced perspective of the entire project. Oppenheimer impresses with its masterful craftsmanship, thought-provoking themes, and interconnected plotlines. However, some viewers may find the dense dialogue and complex ideas challenging to grasp and relate to.

The film opens with a gripping and captivating sequence that immediately draws audiences into the vast narrative surrounding the central character and the eventual Manhattan Project. Nolan’s brilliant use of stunning cinematography by Hoyte van Hoytema, and fast-paced editing by Jennifer Lame, skillfully introduces the audience to the upcoming storyline, creating an irresistible allure around J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy) and his involvement in the project. The pacing is almost breakneck, and the intense dialogue adds to the immersive experience, though it may prove elusive for viewers who aren’t fully attentive to the on-screen events.

The intercutting between the film’s eventual end and the beginning of the narrative builds anticipation and curiosity about how the story reaches its conclusion, adding a layer of complexity that demands viewers’ engagement. However, this dynamic storytelling approach requires viewers to stay actively involved to keep up with the intricacies of the plot.

The film truly finds its footing in the second act, which delves into the development of the atomic bomb, a focal point that will undoubtedly captivate most viewers. This segment not only offers glimpses into Oppenheimer’s personal life but also sheds light on the political intricacies surrounding the project and how his personal beliefs intertwine with the people with whom he chooses to surround himself. Through its extensive narrative, the film seamlessly transitions from the World War II era to the Cold War, planting subtle seeds that explain how the United States evolved from one historical period to the next.

The climax of the film is nothing short of bombastic, leaving viewers awestruck by the sheer audacity and power the atomic bomb wields. It delivers on its promise, providing an awe-inspiring scene that leaves a lasting impact on the audience.

However, this structure starts to lose its momentum as the film approaches its conclusion. Following the explosive and climactic scenes, the narrative shifts to explore the aftermath of the atomic bomb’s usage in World War II. It focuses on the political endeavors of Lewis Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.) and his attempts to undermine Oppenheimer’s reputation, casting him as a threat to national security. While gaining insights into these political developments and the lead-up to the Cold War is intriguing, the film spends a bit too much time on this aspect, delaying the audience’s satisfaction with the conclusion they deserve.

Unfortunately, this lingering focus on the aftermath weakens the film’s overall impact, as the weaker third act diminishes the otherwise strong and compelling story. While the film is undoubtedly captivating, the lasting impression it leaves may be diminished due to the drawn-out conclusion. It’s a shame that a minor flaw in the final act somewhat detracts from the otherwise powerful experience the movie provides.

With such an intense and complex narrative, crucial for conveying the intricacies of the Manhattan Project, it’s no surprise that the dialogue is equally dense to encompass the entirety of what’s at stake. Reminiscent of Aaron Sorkin’s style, the rapid pacing of the conversations undoubtedly keeps viewers captivated, but it can also become challenging to keep up with as the film unfolds. However, the film compensates for this by skillfully providing helpful context clues to its audience, avoiding the need for a more overtly spelled-out plot. These cues fill in essential information gaps that might otherwise be missed.

This complexity of this could lead to the need for second or third viewings to fully understand the depth of the story, though it may not be a desired approach for a general audience. Despite this potential challenge, the film’s gripping nature and artful delivery make it a compelling and thought-provoking experience.

With such a large spectacle at the heart of the film’s narrative, anticipation builds for the eventual detonation of the atomic bomb created during the Manhattan Project. True to his style, Nolan favors practical effects over computer-generated ones, leading to headlines suggesting that he was permitted to detonate a smaller version of the atomic bomb in the desert during filming. This commitment to practical effects pays off immensely in the film’s climax, as the stunning cinematography beautifully captures both the excitement of a successful project and the horror of the disastrous implications it carries.

Shot on 70mm film, Oppenheimer‘s breathtaking camerawork and visual effects will undoubtedly leave both invested and casual viewers in awe of its sheer grandiosity. The film’s impressive practical effects and masterful use of cinematography create a mesmerizing experience, adding to the sense of realism and intensity surrounding the story. The combination of practical effects and skilled visual storytelling elevates Oppenheimer to a level of cinematic brilliance that is sure to resonate with audiences long after the credits roll.

With a grand and expansive narrative to convey, Nolan seamlessly weaves together a multitude of themes and storylines, effortlessly delivering a cinematic experience that leaves no stone unturned. This meticulous approach ensures that the grandeur of the story is fully realized, though it may come at the expense of some ease of understanding and pacing challenges. Nevertheless, Oppenheimer is bound to captivate audiences with its explosive entrance into the summer box office, leaving a lasting impression that carries it through the upcoming Oscar season.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘The Miracle Club’ is a Charming Story of Redemption


Director: Thaddeus O’Sullivan
Writers: Joshua D. Maurer, Timothy Prager, and Jimmy Smallhorne
Stars: Laura Linney, Kathy Bates, and Maggie Smith

Synopsis: There’s just one dream for the women of Ballygar to taste freedom: to win a pilgrimage to the sacred French town of Lourdes.


The Miracle Club brings to mind the Aaron Sorkin line, “The things we do to women.” Women are continually exposed to dangerous predicaments from society’s expectations, familial/generational concerns, cultural norms, and even big business. So much so that the State Department considers women and girls highly at-risk populations because of the unconscious bias and perpetration of violence, sexual exploitation, and abuse against them. Thaddeus O’Sullivan’s film subtly touches upon those themes in a heartwarming story about haunting memories and regret.

The Miracle Club is set in 1967 in a working-class community of Dublin, Ireland, and examines the relationship between three generations of women. You have Lily (Maggie Smith), an older adult woman in a singing group trying to win a trip to the sacred town called Lourdes. The French community is known for having a penchant for granting miracles and drawing millions annually. The women have reasons to want to visit. Eileen (Kathy Bates) is worried the pain in her upper chest may be cancer. The youngest of the group, Dolly (Agnes O’Casey), has an adolescent little boy experiencing anxiety about her child, who is nonverbal and lacks the support services to be attuned to her child’s needs. 

However, that’s when Chrissie (Laura Linney) comes to town in time for her mother’s funeral. In what she describes as a forty-year banishment, she has made a life for herself in the United States, settling in Boston. Now, back in her hometown, she’s the subject of local gossip, and old wounds are opened about why she left all those years ago. Hardened from the experience, Chrissie still cares for her family as they try to heal together under challenging circumstances.

Working with a script from Joshua Maurer, Timothy Prager, and Jimmy Smallhorne (based on his own short story), O’Sullivan tells a charming story of redemption with some dramatic heft. The script is built for classic, well-timed reveals of the hurt feelings that triangulate between Chrissie, Lily, and Eileen, which are rewarding and simultaneously manage to avoid being manipulative when it comes to dramatic moments. For instance, when O’Casey’s Dolly reveals a memory she has ruminated over, Linney’s Chrissie immediately tells her not to tell Lily or Eileen.

Why is this scene necessary? The point of The Miracle Club is that time heals. In this case, the women who wronged Chrissie have learned from their mistakes as she sits back and watches them use empathy instead of guilt and shame in their treatment of Eileen. Instead of having a Jane Fonda On Golden Pond moment of blaming her family for mistreating her decades ago, Chrissie is mature enough to sit back and not allow the situation to be about her but the next generation.

The Miracle Club overcomes a slow start, but there are patches of the film that have a challenging time working when these phenomenal women are absent from the screen. Most of the humor is derived from men acting like children, and the script resorts to stale humor about man babies being adolescents who cannot whip up a home-cooked meal. (My theory remains that the microwave was the male misguided response to feminism.) I’m certainly not objecting to the intent as a sign of the times that remains today; it’s just the execution of jokes that are tired and even cliched in their own right.

While Kathy Bates has the flashier role—big, bold, and incredibly bitter—and Maggie Smith’s addition brings her usual brand of gravitas (and Oscar-bait cliché to the trailer), it’s Laura Linney’s performance that elevates The Miracle Club into a charming and poignant experience. An award-winning actress, her greatest trait has always been her versatility. She’s the main reason to see this movie, having no trouble adapting to being a stoic listener, providing much-needed comic relief, and delivering the film’s best lines.

Yes, it’s strange for Chrissie to come back to Dublin and completely lack an Irish accent, but there’s an old-fashioned patience to The Miracle Club that leads to a handful of emotional payoffs, which are rewarding. Along with Linney’s performance and the subtle themes of what we do to women, O’Sullivan and Smallhorne’s film isn’t about individual miracles but the one that brings these women back together.

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Mission Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One’ Makes You Feel The Pain


Director: Christopher McQuarrie
Writers: Bruce Geller, Erik Jendresen, and Christopher McQuarrie
Stars: Tom Cruise, Hayley Atwell, Ving Rhames

Synopsis: Ethan Hunt and his IMF team must track down a dangerous weapon before it falls into the wrong hands.


Whether you like him or not (I know a handful of people that don’t like him in the least), we must admit that Tom Cruise is one of the last action stars in the modern cinematic landscape – an assertive daredevil. In a time when there aren’t many Hollywood leading faces, even less in action movies, he stands out and sacrifices his life for our entertainment. It is kind of a masochistic experience if you ’d ask me, as we are enjoying his potential pain and injuries. But he loves doing it, and nobody can stop him from doing so. Amongst other life-dangering “activities” he has done, Cruise throws himself out of planes, climbs the tallest building in the world, flies jets. From Top Gun to Edge of Tomorrow, he has remained at the top of the action genre’s food chain for many decades. And he isn’t done yet.

Heck, there are even rumors about Cruise making a film in space. I don’t know if that will work out in the end. Yet, it will surely be something to look out for if he’s involved. His latest project is another installment in one of the most famous action franchises in the world – one that made his name as a stuntman and daredevil – Mission: Impossible — Dead Reckoning Part One. When Christopher McQuarrie arrived at the helm, he delivered what is easily the best of the franchise in 2018 with Mission: Impossible – Fallout. After the franchise’s 2010’s revival, these films have become action-genre staples, to the point where each one seemed to impress us even more on both its technical aspects, as well as the cinematic spectacle the genre provides. 

It feels like they always have a challenge on their backs. They want to ensure the creation of not only great set pieces but also ones that we haven’t seen before. In addition, they want to use the least amount of CGI imaginable – focusing on the raw beauty of composition and choreography – so that its impact and “wow factor” leaves a significant impression on the viewer. It makes us worried and fascinated by Cruise’s addiction to making films for the biggest screen imaginable and McQuarrie’s innovation. Having said all of that, one question remains. Does the first piece of the two-part story live up to the hype and anticipation? Or does it derail? 

Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One centers around Ethan Hunt (Cruise) as he is faced against an inescapable adversary, one that seems to be attacking our own reality at this current moment to some extent: a powerful artificial intelligence gone rogue named The Entity. What’s so dangerous about this A.I.? As elaborated by Hunt’s boss, Eugene Kittridge (Henry Czerny), it can erase truth as we know it – manipulate all aspects of our reality in a fully digital world. Hunt doesn’t know how to face this situation, and certainly not by himself . So, he decides to get the IMF band back together to stop the people behind this devouring algorithm from fracturing existence, hence the beginning of a worldwide chase for two parts of a key that might disable The Entity. As we all know, things won’t be easy for Hunt and company. There are plenty of foes that are targeting him and his team in order to make sure the person behind the A.I. gets what he wants.

They have to fight against Gabriel (Esai Morales) – the messenger of the A.I. potential collateral damage and one of the best “baddies” the series has offered – alongside his comrade assassin Paris (a silent yet fascinatingly deadly Pom Klementieff). But, in return, Hunt gets help from people from his past, Ilsa Faust (an always fascinating Rebecca Ferguson), and newcomers to the decade-spanning franchise like Hayley Atwell’s scene-stealing Grace. We all must agree that one of the best things about the new Mission: Impossible films is their selection of badass women with powerful on-screen magnetism. Unlike many blockbuster franchises, M:I has always dedicated plenty of time to developing its characters so that they can have their moment in the spotlight no matter the stature of their role. However, when it comes to the women, they deliver their all in every scene they are put in. Some of the best parts of the respective action set-pieces are their input to them. There is no film without them. And McQuarrie and co-screenwriter Erik Jendresen know that – making sure their arcs, while leaving blank spaces for the next installment, are polished and carry an emotional weight. 

Since its main antagonist is faceless, this leads to a more spy-games-centered feature compared to the other McQuarrie installments. Yet, these games that The Entity and its followers are choosing wound Hunt mentally since he’s being recognized as their primary target. Not only does he ponder about a future without humans if this mission fails, but also the fate of his loved ones. His gut says to follow the mission above all else. Meanwhile, his heart worries about what might happen to his team and allies. What does he deem more important? He has to make a choice; whether Hunt chooses one or the other, there will be a great sacrifice. While a regular audience might want to catch Dead Reckoning – Part One for its action and thrills, there’s a newly found tension rising because of his humanity and persona as an almost “superhero”-like figure. So when the popcorn entertainment arrives, the viewer feels this nail-biting tension caused by our connection with Hunt and the other characters. 

McQuarrie switches the constant adrenaline rush of Fallout with a more dread and fear-focused narrative about the possibility of loss over one’s own personal vows. Although there were glimpses of these emotions during the other Mission: Impossible films, it is more present here. It feels like a change of pace.. And for a seventh installment of a franchise based on a television series, you have to give props to Tom Cruise and the company for maintaining the quality and surprising us at every end. Of course, another of this film’s most significant revelations is its death-defying action set pieces, particularly the train sequence in the last act. Full of the genre’s spectacle, everybody gives it their all – you see their commitment to making every second of it feel realistic. You can feel the force and impact in every crash, bruise, punch, or kick. 
Like John Wick: Chapter 4, this film basks in the viewer feeling the lead’s pain. This is something that many films of the action genre fail to do. This is why the ones that make sure you feel the suffering are those you think about the most. And I’m glad to say that Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One is one of those. There’s beauty in the multi-million-dollar creations. You just need people like Cruise and McQuarrie who want to give the audience an experience like no other.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Bird Box: Barcelona’ Tries to Flip the Script


Directors: David Pastor and Alex Pastor
Writers: Josh Malerman, David Pastor, and Alex Pastor
Stars: Georgina Campbell, Mario Casas, Diego Calva

Synopsis: After an entity of mysterious origin annihilates the world’s population causing those who observe it to take their lives, Sebastián and his daughter begin their own great adventure of survival in Barcelona.


At first, Bird Box: Barcelona had an arresting setup for a horror thriller. That’s because it has a clever protagonist and a first act that is genuinely engaging and even suspenseful. The story follows Sebastian (Mario Casas) and his adolescent daughter, Anna (Alejandra Howard), as they navigate the dystopian city of Barcelona, now with nothing but desolate streets and more abandoned cars than people. The world is experiencing an apocalyptic event in which mass groups have committed suicide all across Europe and Asia. The survivors must be blindfolded when outside, or an entity will take over their bodies if they open their eyes around the mysterious force, and you know the rest.

I won’t mention much of the plot here because this is one of the few cases where the trailer does an admirable job of bearding the story, which is crucial to the Bird Box: Barcelona. I will say the writing and directing team of Alex and David Pastor do a wonderful job of surprising the viewer and ratcheting up an enormous amount of tension within the first twenty minutes. This is refreshing because once you’ve seen a couple of apocalyptic openers, you’ve seen them all, but the Pastor brothers manage to clear that hurdle here.

That being said, it’s pretty obvious what is going on with Sebastian and Anna, and they rip that band-aid off quickly, which I found refreshing. Yet, after this point, the film goes downhill and becomes stagnant. For one, they needed more time to flesh out the backstory between the father and daughter. Even though there are some breathtakingly ominous visuals, the subway scene, if more time were dedicated to this narrative, would have established a more significant emotional resonance between the two characters and given the third act’s scenes greater heft. Even the backstory concerns a mysterious group of what they call “seers” and their beliefs about the entity’s purpose. In this case, the seers believe this mysterious force is an angel, and when they enter and then leave the body, the entity is taking their souls to heaven.

The Pastor’s script smartly flips the scenarios from the original Bird Box. Now, instead of seeing the event through the eyes of someone trying to survive, it’s through a villain’s lens. However, after that point, not enough time is invested in the characters to care about their outcomes, and the suspense level drops off significantly. The Bird Box: Barcelona’s script would have worked better if we had a group of people trying to escape to a haven but not knowing if one was the villain, slowly picking off each group member individually. Here, we know who the villain is in the first act. If we shifted the first act villain to the main antagonist throughout the film, Padre Esteban, then at the very least, allowed the second act to play out to figure out who the secret seer is, and the suspense would have remained constant throughout the picture.

Bird Box: Barcelona has plenty of potential, and most may enjoy the film for the tense horror thrills it will provide novice film fans. The main issues remain in the muddled themes that start to bleed over one another without offering enough clarity. For instance, the big scene the Pastor’s work towards really is about anti-clericalism, but is traded in for cheap gore that offers little to elevate the film or even add to the excitement. What happened here is the Pastors are probably held to a by-the-numbers script because Netflix has seen fit to create their own Bird Box Cinematic Universe, the BBCU if you will. If only the filmmakers had taken greater chances at the movie’s beginning instead of recycling the same genre tropes until the end. While Bird Box: Barcelona offers some mild insight into why some can function without masking their eyes, this film is a classic horror genre in the final fifty minutes. This is a mild non-recommendation, but the film promises an intriguing apocalyptic franchise for the future if they finally begin to analyze the purpose of the entity and its actions.

Grade: C-

Movie Review: ‘The Out-Laws’ is Nothing But a Marketing Ploy


Directors: Tyler Spindel
Writers: Ben Zazove and Evan Turner
Stars: Adam Devine, Pierce Brosnan, Ellen Barkin

Synopsis: A straight-laced bank manager about to marry the love of his life. When his bank is held up by infamous Ghost Bandits during his wedding week, he believes his future in-laws who just arrived in town, are the infamous Out-Laws.


There is virtually nothing original or even clever about the Happy Madison production, The Out-Laws. This comedy about meeting in-laws follows the genre playbook step by step to the letter, so you will know exactly what will happen before it occurs. The main character will suspect someone is a criminal, and their fiancé doesn’t believe them. You can then cue the main character to try to prove their theory, so much so that they become the person of interest. Throw in the affable male character, a carbon copy villain you’ve seen thousands of times and a plot line of a loved one in danger. You have the same generic film that’s released at least quarterly over multiple streaming platforms. Then throw the cherry on top because of the time-honored tradition of showing everyone busting a humorous boogie or two on the wedding dance floor before the end credits, and you have the same recycled material as a dull, mind-numbing case of cinematic déjà vu.

The Out-Laws follows the good-natured, super-sweet bank manager Owen Browning (Adam Devine). The loveable nice guy, your basic Brad Whitaker type, who somehow stumbled into his upcoming wedding day with the drop-dead gorgeous yoga instructor, Parker (Nina Dobrev). Suffice it to say, Owen is excited about his forthcoming nuptials, even if his parents (played by Richard Kind and Julie Hagerty) are less than thrilled and equate their future daughter-in-law’s career as the equivalent to stripping.

However, the wedding doesn’t seem complete because Parker’s parents are not in the picture, doing missionary work in Africa. Owen then tries to locate photographs of them to create a heartfelt photomontage for their special day. That’s when the owner of the storage locker where Parker keeps her belongings notifies a powerful crime boss (Poorna Jagannathan), who has been looking for the elder McDermotts (Ellen Barkin and Pierce Brosnan) for years after double-crossing her nearly a decade prior.

Yes, how can the creative genius behind The Wrong Missy, the inspired scribe who gave birth to Sherlock Gnomes and Tooth Fairy 2, not to mention a story outline of The Goldbergs, go so wrong? Sarcasm aside, I don’t know if we can blame director Tyler Spindel and writers Evan Turner and Ben Zazove for The Out-Law’s dull homage to The In-Laws. For one, they need to make a living. Two, Hollywood is demanding this from their creatives, limiting the ceiling of their potential and selling what the buyer is comfortable handing over money for. The formula is to buy low (Devine), mimic high (The In-Laws), find a beautiful woman to play the oblivious fiancé/wife (Dobrev), a popular comic actor with nothing to do (Lil Rel Howery), and a handful of beloved veteran performers that will be (mostly) familiar across multiple generations (Barkin, Brosnan, Kind, and Hagerty).

The point is, The Out-Laws is your typical Hollywood version of a marketing ploy for streaming services and selling product placement by taking better film ideas and repackaging them to maintain subscribers and keep advertising revenue high. Another factor in soulless cinematic exercises like The Out-Laws is that they are banking on the coveted young demographic to gobble these films up because they don’t know any better. The audience will recognize if the McDermotts just immediately eliminate the main crux of their problem there would be no justification for a feature-length film, let alone a sixty-minute network pilot with commercials.

That being said, films can succeed if they are similar to other movies. Here, Devine needs to be more lightweight, an actor and comedian to carry any film without significant help. Unfortunately, the script leaves him holding the bag with ramblings that aim for adorable but go on too long and land at grating. Dobrev has little to do but looks confused and distressed, not to mention her role is so underwritten; she somehow has no idea her parents were notorious bank robbers for decades of her life when all the signs are there. And while Poorna Jagannathan, so funny and poignant in Netflix’s Never Have I Ever, makes the most of her comedic villains, the character is so unnecessarily evil. It’s nothing but cartoonish fluff that doesn’t do this comedy favors. If you enjoy The Out-Laws, I admire your tolerance and ability to let trivial things roll off your back. However, you should ask more from your streaming service that keeps increasing prices and advertisements in your viewing experience.

Grade: D

Movie Review: ‘Insidious: The Red Door’ is a Satisfying Conclusion for the Series


Directors: Patrick Wilson
Writers: Scott Teems (Story by: Leigh Whannell & Scott Teems)
Stars: Ty Simpkins, Patrick Wilson, Hiam Abbass

Synopsis: The Lamberts must go deeper into The Further than ever before to put their demons to rest once and for all.


James Wan’s Insidious and Insidious: Chapter 2 are two of the scariest films I’ve ever seen. Full stop. I don’t get scared easily because I find most horror movie tropes to be rather predictable (the creaking door, the loud boos, the fake-outs, the characters going into places they’re not supposed to go). Still, Wan and screenwriter Leigh Whannell created an atmosphere that twisted each trope on its head. You couldn’t guess where the jumpscares were coming from, you couldn’t figure out if what they were seeing was indeed real or a part of their imagination. The most potent image of the franchise is a daylight shot of Josh Lambert (Patrick Wilson) being haunted by the Lipstick-Face Demon (Joseph Bishara) standing behind him. Of course, he doesn’t see it, but Renai (Rose Byrne) and Lorraine (Barbara Hershey) do. That shot, and the incredible Lipstick demon have been ingrained in my memory.

With Insidious: The Red Door, Patrick Wilson returns to his iconic role of Josh Lambert and directs for the first time. The film acts as a direct sequel to Insidious: Chapter 2, where Josh and his son Dalton (Ty Simpkins) have had their memories of the events of the first two films erased by Carl (Steve Coulter) after Josh was possessed by the spirit of serial killer Parker Crane (Tom Fitzpatrick) and attempted to kill his family. Ten years have passed since, and Josh is now divorced from Renai and has difficulty connecting with his family, especially Dalton, who is now attending college to study art.

During his art class, Dalton’s professor (Hiam Abbass) does an exercise in which she wants her students to go deep into their memories and draw what they see. Dalton becomes haunted by the vision of a Red Door and of a man with a hammer. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but it slowly haunts him and Josh, who also begins to experience visions of creatures from “The Further.” The rest of the movie is fairly conventional, but Wilson and screenwriter Scott Teems keep it engaging through its character dynamics.

Insidious: The Red Door works well because audiences are already deeply invested in the characters Wan and Whannell created thirteen years ago with the release of the original Insidious. Wilson develops Josh’s relationship with Dalton thoughtfully, with the first act concentrated on what went wrong between him and his son. Dalton deeply resents his father because he hasn’t been there for him in the events that transpired in Chapter 2. But he can’t blame his dad for not being here – he simply doesn’t remember what happened beyond his son’s coma in the first film.

Wilson remains in top form as Josh, with a perfect understanding of what made the character memorable in the first two movies. He may not be in the movie as much as Simpkins, but he has his fair share of memorable sequences, including the biggest highlight of the movie, set in an MRI machine. Of course, it’s the perfect setting for a claustrophobic moment, where he’s trapped inside a contraption that, predictably, loses power. What happens next will not only shock but terrify you to your core. Simpkins is also great as Dalton, who has been relatively underused in the franchise thus far. In the first one, he was in a coma, after all. In the sequel, they slightly expand on the character by making him go “to the dark place,” but he finally feels like a fully-formed protagonist.

Unfortunately, the MRI scene was about the only legitimate scare I had watching Insidious: The Red Door. Wilson doesn’t possess the same skill as Wan (and Whannell, who directed Insidious: Chapter 3) when he made the first two movies. Wan consistently subverts audience expectations and puts jumpscares in positions where you least anticipate them. That’s why the Lipstick-Face Demon appearance was effective and always turned out to be the scariest part of the non-Wan-directed prequels. That shot of the demon at the end of Insidious: The Last Key may be slightly ridiculous, but Joseph Bishara always knows how to play it in the most effectively scary way. Bishara has also composed the score for each Insidious film, bringing his arsenal again for The Red Door. It’s always effective, particularly when he has to punctuate some of the scares by toning the music down and then bringing it back up.

And while the movie devotes lots of focus to Dalton’s journey and his relationship with his father and roommate Chris (Sinclair Daniel), The Red Door, unfortunately, forgets Renai for most of the runtime and instead relegates her to being an exposition-delivery machine. All she does is spoon-feed crucial exposition to Josh that audiences already know instead of giving her the agency she had in the first two Insidious pictures. The divorce sounded like an interesting storyline in Josh and Renai’s arc to explore, but Wilson and Teems barely scratch what made the couple want to separate when they still clearly have feelings for each other. Of course, we understand why they separated, but the explanation still feels unfulfilling and instead brings more questions than answers. And with how this movie wraps up, there are a lot of questions that Wilson seemingly leaves in suspense.

Then the third act arrives and feels pitifully rushed compared to the slow-burn approach Wilson opted to adopt in the first two acts. It isn’t as strong as the rest of the movie, but we’ve got the Lipstick Demon to hold on to, and that creature is terrifying in and of itself. The movie could just have him go BOO! at random moments for 100 minutes, and it would be one of the scariest movies of all time. Insidious has the creatures and the atmosphere that made the franchise a memorable staple in contemporary horror cinema. And while Insidious: The Red Door isn’t the strongest film of the franchise (nor the weakest, that award still goes out to Chapter 3), it still feels like a satisfying conclusion to a series of films that have continuously terrified us for over a decade. That alone is worth remembering.

Grade: B-

Op-Ed: Jungle Fever: Films That Go Deep Into The Darkness

History of explorers has found themselves traveling every inch of land that is unknown and encountering various dangers that would be part of legend whether they lived or not. They have put their own lives at risk for the forwarding of mankind and its push to explore beyond the boundaries. Their stories have become the basis for many books and have inspired many films that go into these problematic regions. Some of the movies go deep inside and dare to go far with their production by filming on location which caused some problems. Here are some of those movies that took a trip into the wilderness.  

Aguirre, Wrath of God (1972)

Werner Herzog created a fictional account of a Spanish expedition gone wrong with a maniacal soldier (Klaus Kinski) who leads a revolt in the search for El Dorado. In the middle of Peru, the longer they go, the more peril they face from nature and its inhabitants, yet the self-proclaimed “wrath of God” does not fear the arrows and raging rivers. The first of five collaborations between Herzog and Kinski made an explosive set with Herzog’s dangerous methods and Kinski’s explosive temper that terrorized everyone on set. The story showed the madness in the story and on-set with guerilla-style filmmaking which captured the feeling of the German New Wave.

Apocalypse Now (1979)

Francis Ford Coppola is in post-production of his long-awaited Megalopolis, but his modern adaptation of Joseph Conrad’s novel “Heart Of Darkness” was even darker around his Vietnam War-set film. Following a disillusioned Captain (Martin Sheen) who is ordered to find and “terminate with extreme prejudice” a rogue Colonel (Marlon Brando), it goes beyond fighting the Vietcong. It drives deep into human carnage on a river patrol boat full of young soldiers unaware of this unusual mission. Even the making of this film, as well as its long post-production, drove Coppola mad with problem after problem extending the shooting schedule and ballooning the budget. Yet, it comes out of the jungle with raw power not seen in any other film. 

Fitzacarraldo (1982)

Ten years after Aguirre, Werner Herzog went back into the jungle for his adventure drama following the titular rubber baron looking to move his ship across an isthmus. Jason Robards and Mick Jagger were initially cast and shot forty percent of the film when Robards was medically evacuated after becoming ill. Unable to return and with Jagger having also to leave due to the lack of time, Herzog went to Klaus Kinski for their fourth collaboration. It was one where they were at each others’ throats due to Kinski’s rageaholic behavior toward others and Herzog was asked by a native chief if they should murder Kinski. Somehow, the film was completed and remains another achievement in the mad genius of Herzog and Kinski. 

Predator (1987)

In one of the better action films of the decade, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Carl Weathers (with that iconic handshake), Bill Duke, and Jesse Ventura play a group of Green Berets that go into Central America for a daring rescue mission. When arriving, things are not what they seem as an alien hiding amongst them begins to take the group out one by one. It spawned the franchise that continues today with the prequel Prey being released in 2022, but none of it can top the original set deep in the jungle and that unmasking scene where Schwarzenegger remarks, “You’re an ugly motherf—er!” 

Avatar/Avatar: The Way of Water (2009/2022)

There is the jungle and then there is a whole new world which James Cameron made from paper many years before shooting. It is Pandora and the native Na’vi when CGI broke new ground and Cameron, always the adventurer, established this jaw-dropping ride of a movie of a soldier (Sam Worthington) who is hired to help find new resources for Earth. But his love for the land and its inhabitants, plus the real motives of the military, leads to a change of heart in order to protect the planet from invasion and catastrophic extraction.

It certainly feels like a mirror to the exploitation of many third-world nations over oil, rubber, diamonds, gold, and other valuable resources that major first-world powers are guilty of. The following films currently being filmed will continue to play on those themes as the sequel expanded to other tribes and the oceans with it. How far Cameron will go in this adventure is still yet to be seen, but it has borne so much fruit (in the form of billions of dollars) that it is limitless as to where the saga of Pandora will end up.

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Movie Review: ‘Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken’ is a By The Numbers Coming of Age Story


Directors: Kirk DeMicco and Faryn Pearl
Writers: Pam Brady, Brian C. Brown, and Elliott DiGuiseppi
Stars: Lana Condor, Toni Collette, Jane Fonda

Synopsis: A shy adolescent learns that she comes from a fabled royal family of legendary sea krakens and that her destiny lies in the depths of the waters, which is bigger than she could have ever imagined.


In the vein of Shrek, Despicable Me, and Wreck-It Ralph; Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken attempts to turn a traditional antagonist into a sympathetic protagonist. In this case, it’s the mighty krakens who protect the seas from the evil mermaids. This tale also adds in the twist of a coming of age story. 

Just like every teen in a coming of age story, Ruby (Lana Condor), just wants to be normal. As she embraces her abnormality thanks to the new, super popular girl and secret mermaid, Chelsea (Annie Murphy), Ruby hits all the benchmarks of a coming of age story. She rebels, she blows off her ride or die friends, and learns about her changing body. It’s all very derivative of what’s come before like a coming of age Mad Lib to insert the unique mythological details. The reason the formula works, though, is because we’ve all been there, or are there, or will be there. This is a human monster story. 

Within the tepid four quadrant appealing story, there are some highlights, like Annie Murphy’s vocal performance. She has that beautiful blend of snarkiness and shallowness to her that comes out so well in a popular girl character. She’s the mean girl you love and hate. A perfect pairing of actor and character.

Another terrific addition to the story is the music, both score and soundtrack. With a score written by Stephanie Economou, the film is given an atmospheric and heroic mood in equal measure. Her dreamy pop that sounds like it’s coming from underwater is the perfect coming of age sound. The soundtrack also features songs from bands with fantastic front women, including Yeah Yeah Yeahs, BLACKPINK, and fabulous teen punk group The Linda Lindas. The music enriches Ruby’s world rather than forcing a feeling onto it.

What is most appealing about Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken, if you want something that will distract from the bland story, is the design of the locations and characters. From the spineless, rubbery krakens to the diverse townsfolk, the character designs are wonderful. There is something really inspiring about the creation of a unique human environment even when the humans in it feel very familiar. The town looks like something out of a Miyazaki film with its turrets, shipping container archways, tiny, zipping cars, and pirate ship duck boats. The undersea world is also rendered in gorgeous, glowing neons. If you’re going to make an animated film like this, it’s good to really pour some pizzazz into the design.

It’s also refreshing that filmmakers are not into fully blaming parents any more. There has been a spate of recent coming of age films that have had parents that treat their teens with more respect than a lot of parents in previous examples of these types of films. There’s a lovely scene of Agatha (Toni Collette) coming upon the scared, gigantic Ruby. Rather than pushing Ruby away with blame, Agatha calms her down and talks with Ruby. There’s still conflict between the two of them, but the rift never seems insurmountable after that because of how much Agatha is trying.

It’s funny to write that a story about a teenage kraken doesn’t break a whole lot of new ground, but it’s true. Ruby Gillman, Teenage Kraken is a very by the numbers coming of age story. The unique plot elements of the story, the stunning visuals, and a few wonderful vocal performances aren’t enough to elevate it beyond just O.K. It’s a nice palate cleanser from the tidal wave of franchise fare drowning the megaplexes right now, but that’s the only thing it offers.

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘Joy Ride’ is the Funniest Comedy of the Year


Director: Adele Lim
Writers: Cherry Chevapravatdumrong, Teresa Hsiao
Stars: Ashley Park, Sherry Cola, Stephanie Hsu, Sabrina Wu

Synopsis: Follows four Asian-American friends as they bond and discover the truth of what it means to know and love who you are, while they travel through Asia in search of one of their birth mothers.


With Jennifer Lawrence bringing the capital “R” back to “raunchy” in No Hard Feelings, coming out this Friday, this summer promises to be the return of the female R-rated driven comedy. That’s because the year’s funniest comedy comes only a few weeks later: Adele Lim’s Joy Ride! An uproarious, gut-busting, laugh-out-loud comedy that knows how to push the envelope of a conventional road trip comedy to its limits. Then, somewhat unexpectedly, locating a poignant theme of identity in the middle of such wild debauchery to tie everything together.

The story follows Audrey (Ashley Park), a kick-ass lawyer crushing the competition in a middle-aged white man’s world. Audrey has racked up over 3,000 billable hours, a statistic important in her uber politically correct sensitive boss (Timothy Simmons), who thinks a promotion is in order, which means a move to Los Angeles. A goal and career-oriented professional, a career move of this magnitude has always been her dream. The problem is Audrey doesn’t know how to tell Lolo (Sherry Cola), a free spirit and emerging “positive body image artist” (which amounts to creating miniature playground equipment in the shape of male and female sexual organs), who happens to be her best friend since they were in grade school, bonded by their Chinese heritage.

However, Audrey was adopted by Caucasian parents and has never learned to speak fluent Chinese or Mandarin. So, to close a deal on the business trip that will seal her promotion, Audrey brings Lolo along to be her translator. Everything seems to be going to plan until Lolo drops the news that she’s bringing her anomalous cousin, “Deadeye” (Sabrina Wu), a chronically online socially awkward BTS-head who joins them on their adventure. Along with the help of Audrey’s college roommate, Kate (Stephanie Hsu), a streaming soap star who doubles as a hot mess of a born-again Christian, tags along to charm Audrey’s potential new clients. Unfortunately, the potential clients refuse to sign on the dotted line because Audrey is unaware of where she comes from. The group then embarks on a road trip to locate Audrey’s birth mother and search for the identity that was left behind for her.

Joy Ride is Lim’s first feature film behind the camera, after writing the screenplays of such wonderful films as Crazy Rich Asians and the animated movie Raya and the Last Dragon. Here, scribes Cherry Chevapravatdumrong (Awkwafina Is Nora from Queens) and Teresa Hsiao (Fresh Off the Boat) work with her story treatment to create one of the year’s funniest films. I’m not sure we’ve seen a film push the envelope this far without tearing it apart since the Farrelly brothers’ comedies of the ’90s. The script is an eccentric mix of hard R-rated (Lolo), nonsensical (Wu), and even some cringe (Hsu) comedy concepts that blend famously. Including an eye-opening, jaw-dropping, raunchy comedic sex scene(s) involving all the characters that will go down as one of the raciest yet most hilarious in movie history.

While the writing is very funny and instigates some genuine belly laughs, those lines and gags are brought to life by a fantastic cast. For me, the film’s best jokes come from the amusing Wu, whose naïve, oddball, yet empathetic performance has a direct line to my funny bone and even my heart. Hsu, last year’s Academy Award nominee, has the film’s funniest scene—which brings new meaning to the phrase, “You don’t stare the devil in the eyes and come out without some of his sins”—which will probably elicit more audible gasps than laughs initially. Still, you’ve never seen anything like it. Cola, who you will see later this year in the awkwardly charming Sundance favorite Shortcomings, is Joy Ride’s wildcard yet strangely grounded best friend because she has a self-awareness that’s out of place in the group, never pretending to be anything she’s not.

Then you have Tony Award nominee Ashley Park, who starts as a straight woman, then gets to let loose as the film goes along and does a little bit of everything in the comedy. I’m not sure just anyone can show the range she has here, delivering the film’s most poignant moments while making the consumption of pounds of blow, pills, and other drug paraphernalia in the strangest of places to when being unexpected drug mules was thrust upon her, like a legend, but Park does—as I said, utterly delightful, laugh-out-loud, dirty debauchery.

Finally, at the core of the film is Audrey’s identity. To understand the themes the film touches upon, albeit incredibly briefly at times, you should check out the Amanda Lipitz Netflix documentary Found. That film follows four Chinese girls who were adopted and brought to the United States, embarking on a journey back to China in search of their cultural identity. This encompasses Audrey and is used to drive the story. Not only does it allow very funny situations to continuously top each other, which can obviously be illogical and unbelievable at times, but it also helps give the outrageous comedy an emotional connection that makes at least one of the characters three-dimensional and provides the viewer with something to hang their hat on. Yes, the film has heart, but let’s make no mistake, Joy Ride is the best R-rated comedy since, well, No Hard Feelings. However, as comedies go, Adele Lim’s road trip movie will have a hard time giving up the “funniest film of the year” accolade stamp that most critics and fans will indeed embrace. Even when some of the jokes do not work, Joy Ride unapologetically goes beyond the limits of your typical comedy, uninhibited and without regrets.

Grade: A-

Criterion Releases: July 2023

Welcome to the dog days of summer, passing through another independence day, and a new batch of hot releases via the Criterion Collection. The only film is a re-release, a French New Wave staple, while Martin Scorsese gets another film of his on the C shelf and two independent 90s flicks get their due. On top of that, a collection of B-Westerns in the 1950s come out that were as cinematic as any John Ford-John Wayne film made in the same era and remain a hidden part of the genre. Here are the films coming out this July. 

The Ranown Westerns: Five Films Directed by Budd Boetticher (1957-1960)

A series of low-budget westerns from Boetticher would finally be his breakthrough in a long career going back to the 1930s. Collaborating on films with actor Randolph Scott and writer Burt Kennedy, the Ranown Cycle is actually a total of seven films, but only these five are part of the collection. The Tall T, Decision At Sundown, Buchanan Rides Alone, Ride Lonesome, and Comanche Station are all connected through storylines of greed, allegiance, quiet motives, and the thin line of morality. Other notables that took part include Maureen O’Sullivan, Lee Van Cleef, and James Coburn, who made his film debut in Ride Lonesome. 

Breathless (1960)

Jean-Luc Godard joined his friend, Francois Truffaut, in establishing the phenomenon that was the New Wave on screen with this frolicking crime story of a wanna be gangster (Jean-Paul Belmondo) who kills a police officer and goes into hiding with his lover (Jean Seberg). The jump cuts, the jazz score, the radical film techniques to make this film; it wasn’t a wave, but a tsunami of change that permanently put Godard’s name in film history and built up a new sea of French directorial talent that would follow after.

After Hours (1985)

A film in the middle of Scorsese’s resume is this dark comedy starring Griffin Dunne who goes on a whim to hook up with a woman (Rosanna Arquette) and travels New York City’s bizarre underworld. Wanting to get home, he finds himself trapped from escaping due to mistaken identity and finds SoHo as rooms of unique characters. Comic duo Tommy Chong & Cheech Marin, plus Linda Fiorentino, Teri Garr, and Catherine O’Hara also star in a modern Scorsese story of New York’s business life and a move from conformism to surrealism.

One False Move (1992)

Carl Franklin’s noir follows two drug runners who scramble away from a killing scene in LA and drive eastward to Arkansas where a police chief is aware of their activities because of a woman that is connected between the two. Bill Paxton, Billy Bob Thornton (who co-wrote it), Cynda Williams, and Michael Beach star in this cross-country drive that has no boundaries and delivers a shocking secret that wraps all of them together. It came close to going straight-to-video, but enough acclaim from film festivals got it a theatrical release, and now, it is here.

The Watermelon Woman (1996)

An important point in the unwrapping of queer cinema, Cheryl Dunne wrote, directed, and starred in this comedy of identity and discovery. An aspiring filmmaker works on a documentary about an unknown Black actress whose life parallels hers as a lesbian who begins dating a white girl (Guinevere Turner). Learning more about the titular character also means delving into Hollywood’s history with Black women in the racist stereotypical mammy roles and representing gay characters. With only $300,000 to make this film, Dunne’s exploration into a subject that had never been told before is an incredible discovery and one that needs to be portrayed more.

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Movie Review: ‘Run Rabbit Run’ is Standard Horror Fare


Director: Daina Reid
Writer: Hannah Kent
Stars: Sarah Snook, Greta Scacchi, Damon Herriman

Synopsis: Sarah Snook plays a fertility doctor who believes firmly in life and death, but after noticing the strange behavior of her young daughter, must challenge her own values and confront a ghost from her past.


The new Netflix psychological horror thriller, Run Rabbit Run, conquers the genre if you want to judge the film solely as a visual medium. Cinematographer Bonnie Elliott successfully builds enough tension and horror goodness by incorporating a wide range of subjective camera shots, from extreme close-ups to an effective wide-angle tracking shot over the desolate Australian landscape, causing the viewer to feel uneasy about where the story is heading as it progresses. However, novelist Hannah Kent’s script relies too heavily on standard horror tropes that are repetitive, which are practically the same scenes. The result is the cinematic equivalent of knocking your head against a wall, expecting a different result.

Run Rabbit Run follows a single mother named Sarah (Sarah Snook), an obstetrician who is co-parenting her daughter Mia (Lily LaTorre) with her ex-husband, Peter (Damon Herriman). Mia is a precocious child who has started to take an interest in her family and its traumatic history. Much of that has to do with Sarah’s mother, Joan (Greta Scacchi), who has been suffering from dementia for years now. From the viewer’s standpoint, we know very little about Sarah’s past, which is where Kent’s script excels, by releasing tiny reveals, like a good mystery thriller, of the happenings that lead to their family’s dark backstory. As the film makes headway, Mia begins to refer to herself as Alice, Sarah’s younger sister who went missing when she was a small child.

Sarah has never discussed her family trauma with her “Bunny,” a pet name her parents gave Mia. How is this possible? Sarah begins to wonder if her ex-husband is telling Mia about her past as some power play or if Sarah is talking in her sleep. Either way, her adorable little girl develops a case of oppositional defiant disorder seemingly out of nowhere, frequently becoming uncooperative, rebellious, and hostile toward her mother as she continues to stake her claim as her mother’s lost sister. Mia’s teachers even become concerned, saying the child’s extreme anxiety leads to her gothic and morbid drawings on the back of her school assignments.

Daina Reid knows something about psychological horror, having received a 2019 Emmy nomination for Outstanding Directing for a Drama Series for her work on The Handmaid’s Tale. (Reportedly, Elisabeth Moss was set to star in Reid’s film but backed out because of scheduling conflicts.) Darkly atmospheric, with a chilling score by Mark Bradshaw and Marcus Whale, Run Rabbit Run has all the visual and auditory splendors when it comes to a compelling psychological horror thriller. Also, the obsession with putting a child in danger will naturally lend itself to the viewers easily feeling a sense of dread and uneasiness.

However, while you may think you are in for a psychological horror steeped in imagery, Kent’s script repeatedly begins to use the same scenes of Sarah confronting Mia about knowing family secrets and wanting to be called Alice. This happens at least a half dozen times and is not even used as an effective storytelling tool to reveal new information and advance the story. Every time it happens, Mia puts on her bunny mask, and Snook’s Sarah becomes agitated and accidentally injures her child. The same scenario repeats itself, which becomes monotonous and unpleasant. And by the film’s third act, the reveal is rather apparent, turning it into a generic thriller. Even a secondary reveal that can be seen as abstract is completely illogical since this would be the first place anyone would look at when someone goes missing.

Reid and Kent’s mistake is immersing the viewer in Australian horror themes and symbolism without fine-tuning the story’s plot for errors and varying the scenes involving psychological horror. For instance, the constant appearance of a giant white rabbit holds significance in the land of Down Under, as its introduction has resulted in overgrazing and devastating impacts on the country’s indigenous flora and fauna. The statement about overpopulation seems evident, as humans also contribute to overpopulation. Additionally, Australian gothic themes such as repression, being bound by secrets and lies, the conflict between nature and culture, and even elements of mysticism make appearances. While one can appreciate the filmmakers’ attempt to incorporate unique Australian cultural themes, the overall experience feels like camouflage for a derivative thriller. What Run Rabbit Run is really about is a metaphor for a child’s vicarious trauma, but that point is muddled and not at all brought to the forefront as it should have been.

The film has a small cast, and these are all fairly standard horror performances. I will say Snook’s mental well-being crumbling in front of our eyes is startlingly effective. Yet, by the film’s end, the monotonous, unpleasant repetitiveness goes from a killer creepy yarn to a mundane psychological horror thriller imitation we have seen done better in Australian horror fares like Relic and The Babadook. Run Rabbit Run would have been better off with an increased focus on the family’s dark past and highlighting the vicarious trauma angle to enhance the viewer’s experience and the depth of its themes.

Grade: C-

The Curse Of The Sibling: A Comparison In Separate Careers

I am a huge fan of Succession like many people are and am sad to see it end. The struggle for power among three siblings for their father’s media empire, influenced by the Murdoch family at Fox, is one of the most dynamic shows in the last decade that gets in your veins from the start even if you hate all of the characters. I like Cousin Greg; he is a little out there, not totally aware and nervous for his small piece of the pie, but far from being the asshole the others are. Another thing that amazes me is Kieran Culkin, not just because of his role as Roman, but also his career trajectory compared to his older brother, Macaulay. He was the ultimate child star thanks to Home Alone, and while he still has a good career as an adult, Kieran has shot past him. 

There are many siblings as such, some being serious rivalries. Some have successfully worked together like Joel & Ethan Coen, the Dardenne Brothers, the Weinsteins (actually, forget them), and the Marx brothers. Others work separately – and those who just flat-out hate each other like Liam and Noel Gallagher. Then, there are those where one sibling is way more successful than the other, but there is zero envy with any of it. Frank Stallone is not complaining about what his brother Sylvester has been doing. And then, there are these other siblings.

Olivia de Haviland & Joan Fontaine

One of the most bitter sibling rivalries in Hollywood, the always strained relationship stemmed back to childhood when Joan resented her mother for always preferring her older sister Olivia as the favorite. When Joan got into the acting business after Olivia, she was told she couldn’t use her legal surname, so she used her mother’s. When both were nominated for Best Actress at the Oscars in 1942, it was Joan who won for Suspicion, and going to the stage, Joan snubbed Olivia’s hand in congratulations. When Joan approached Olivia after her own Oscar win in 1947 for To Each His Own, Olivia returned the favor and ignored her. 

The final straw was in 1975 following their mother’s death; Joan was on stage touring and claimed Olivia never informed her, while Olivia claimed she sent a telegram but was told Joan wouldn’t be able to make it. Years later, when the sisters were invited to the same Oscars ceremony, someone had booked their hotel rooms next to each other and Joan was able to switch to another floor. Joan lived and died in California in 2013, while Olivia lived for decades in Paris until her passing in 2020, aged 104. 

Boris & David & Mikhail Kaufman

All three brothers from the former Soviet Union studied movies in the 1920s and would go on to play separate parts in the path of cinema. David was the oldest; he is widely known in film history as Dziga Vertov after he Russianized his name following the October Revolution of 1917. He would make movies for the pro-Communist side in that country’s civil war and experiment with various techniques in his mini-series known as Kino-Pravda, or “film truth.” But it was his 1929 avant-garde documentary Man With A Movie Camera that made him a permanent influence for generations after, the film was listed as the greatest documentary ever in Sight & Sound’s Greatest Documentaries poll in 2014.

Vertov would spend his whole life in Russia, making movies through the 1930s before making way for younger directors and editing film magazines. Meanwhile, his younger brother’s career continued. Mikhail would be Vertov’s main cameraman for all of his film shorts, plus Movie Camera until a falling out between the two ended the professional relationship. The separation allowed Mikhail to make his movies and work in the Soviet film system, running different studios throughout the whole nation until his retirement in the 1970s. While he and his older brother were confined to Russia, the youngest brother would leave for France.

Boris sought to be even more independent and get away from the troublesome Eastern side of the continent. In his twenties, Boris met Jean Vigo, a major figure in French cinema even after just making four features in his lifetime, all of them shot by Boris. It allowed him to work with other French directors in the 1930s before World War II forced him to flee to North America. He was still making shorts and documentaries when Elia Kazan, preparing to shoot On The Waterfront, hired Boris because of his knowledge of on-location work which Kazan sought to replicate. 

It resulted in an Oscar for Best Cinematography and a second nomination for Baby Doll. Boris then collaborated with director Sidney Lumet on seven features, including 12 Angry Men, The Fugitive Kind, and The Pawnbroker. He would shoot another film for Kazan, Splendor In The Grass, and work with Jules Dassin, George Roy Hill, and Otto Preminger before retiring in 1970. Boris died a few months after Mikhail died in 1980, but his work remains the more notable of the three thanks to his move to New York and the exposure to working with some of Hollywood’s best directors. 

Herman J. & Joseph L. Mankiewicz 

There wasn’t a rivalry here and both had successful careers, but the younger brother had a little more success than the older one. Herman was the oldest and is widely known for co-writing Citizen Kane with Orson Welles, winning an Oscar. The story of how that project came to be was later portrayed in David Fincher’s Mank, written by his father, Jack Fincher. Herman wrote many screenplays, credited or not, including The Last Command, The Wizard Of Oz, and The Pride Of The Yankees. He sadly died in 1953 from complications of alcoholism while Joseph was one of the biggest writers/directors in Hollywood.  

After success as a producer with MGM, Joseph went to 20th Century Fox to move into the director’s chair. With head Darryl F. Zanuck as producer, Joseph would write and direct A Letter To Three Wives and All About Eve, giving him consecutive Oscars for both Adapted Screenplay and Director, 4 Oscars in two years, while Eve went on to win Best Picture. He continued to have success as an independent with Julius Caesar, The Barefoot Contessa, and his final directorial effort, Sleuth. In the middle of it, Joseph took over the wallet-burning Fox production Cleopatra. He took the job because of the massive offer from Zanuck but came to regret it because of the financial loss it suffered, nearly ending his career. 

Emilio Estevez & Charlie Sheen

The sons of actor Martin Sheen, both at times came together on projects while their personal lives were different. Charlie made his breakthrough in Oliver Stone’s Platoon and Wall Street (the latter co-starring his dad) and later transitioned to TV success with Spin City and Two And A Half Men. Post-firing from Men has been very much covered in the press, from his turbulent relationships to his use of drugs, and then his stunning announcement that he tested positive for HIV after being extorted multiple times to keep it private. 

Emilio, his older brother, was part of the Brat Pack in the 1980s thanks to his performances in The Outsiders, The Breakfast Club, and St. Elmo’s Fire. He also went behind the camera starting with the 1986 crime drama Wisdom when he was only 24 years old. He would direct several TV shows and movies, including teaming up with Charlie in Rated X, where they played a pair of real-life porn-producing brothers. He would also direct his father in 2010s The Way, and recently reprised his role as Gordon Bombay in the TV sequel to the famous Mighty Ducks franchise he starred in.

Warner Brothers

I wrote an article about these four brothers and how they went from a united front to a civil war where one brother, whose own Succession story is fascinating, came out with full control. Albert, Jack, Harry, and Sam all formed their first distribution company in the 1900s in Pittsburgh where they hailed from before moving to Los Angeles. On April 4, 1923, Warner Bros. Inc. began and remains 100 years later a major studio in Hollywood. To make a major challenge to their competitors, they pioneered making movies with sound, resulting in The Jazz Singer in 1927, changing movies forever. It was a bittersweet moment, however; Sam died unexpectedly the day before the film’s release.

Jack, the youngest of the four, took full control as head of production left void by Sam, causing friction with his two surviving brothers. His leadership style brought admiration and disgust to many, especially Albert and Harry who saw their brother’s actions costing them money. In 1956, the three men put the studio on the market, but Jack established a syndicate where he bought back all the stock once they sold them on having virtual sole control of the studio. Albert and Harry never spoke to their brother again and Jack never attended their funerals, outliving them both and retiring in the mid-1970s. 

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Movie Review: ‘No Hard Feelings’ Is An Escape From Reality


Director: Gene Stupnitsky
Writers: Gene Stupnitsky and John Phillips
Stars: Jennifer Lawrence, Andrew Barth Feldman, Laura Benanti

Synopsis: On the brink of losing her home, Maddie finds an intriguing job listing: helicopter parents looking for someone to bring their introverted 19-year-old son out of his shell before college. She has one summer to make him a man or die trying.


At first glance, rom-coms appear to have a lack of depth, and can either be a huge hit or miss. Often, they succumb to clichés and contrived drama, easily avoidable conflicts. However, occasionally, they manage to transcend these shortcomings and offer something truly unique and profound. Typically, their plots are straightforward, their tone light-hearted, and they make for enjoyable and effortless viewing. The new raunchy rom-com, No Hard Feelings, starring Jennifer Lawrence, falls into the category of an easy and mindless first watch. While the initial jokes are amusing, the film gradually loses its charm when subjected to deeper contemplation. The overall tone lacks consistency, the characters and conflicts feel forced and artificial, and the general plot veers uncomfortably close to being predatory.

Maddie (Lawrence) works as an Uber driver and a bartender, struggling to make ends meet as the cost of living skyrockets due to her hometown’s newfound status as a summer vacation spot for the ultra-wealthy. Desperate for a car after hers is repossessed, she decides to respond to a Craigslist ad from two helicopter parents who are seeking someone to help their son come out of his shell. The premise seems unnecessarily convoluted, and it’s never made clear why exactly she can’t make ends meet. The film attempts to address themes like gentrification and wealth, but it fails to provide substantial commentary on these topics. Instead, it relies on contrived and overly complicated plot developments solely for the sake of advancing the storyline, a pattern that persists throughout the film.

Following their initial encounter, Maddie and Percy (Andrew Barth Feldman) couldn’t be more different from each other. Maddie embraces her true self without apologies but is surprisingly afraid of commitment, even refusing to leave her hometown due to fear. Percy, on the other hand, is painfully awkward, barely venturing outside his room after a traumatic bullying incident in high school. He becomes deeply attached to anyone he connects with, including Maddie. These character types may seem familiar, and if you’ve read the plot synopsis, you can probably anticipate where the film is heading as you become acquainted with the characters and their situation. While the comedy provides solid support, the predictability of numerous plot points diminishes its uniqueness over time.

The film heavily relies on the initial contrast between its two main characters to generate upfront comedy. With Maddie, an experienced and assertive individual, attempting to seduce the shy and socially awkward Percy, there are plenty of humorous moments as they interact and get to know each other. However, this dynamic often goes a step too far, with Maddie becoming overly aggressive in her pursuit of Percy. While he may find her attractive, it’s clear that he is uncomfortable with her advances. This undermines the film’s purpose of helping Percy integrate into society, as Maddie seems oblivious to the social cues he is giving. It gives the impression that only through sex can one feel comfortable and confident enough to make friends and expand their social circle.

Additionally, the decision to create a 13-year age difference between the characters further compounds the issue. Jennifer Lawrence, known for portraying characters older than her actual age (such as playing a 35-year-old single mom in Joy at the age of 25), does not appear “old” at her current age of 32. The ad that Maddie responds to specifically requests someone in their early to mid-20s, and she answers it at the age of 32. It’s puzzling why the film couldn’t have asked for someone in their early 20s and made Lawrence’s character closer to her mid-20s. This adjustment would significantly reduce the predatory undertones of the age gap and enhance the humor of the “old” jokes throughout the film, knowing that her character is actually quite young.

The true saving grace of this film, despite its numerous flaws, lies in the undeniable chemistry between Lawrence and Feldman. Their dedication to comedy shines through, keeping the movie afloat. As they develop a deeper connection throughout the story, it becomes genuinely heartwarming to witness. Despite the predictable nature of their individual character arcs, it remains captivating to explore the reasons behind their current personas and see how they mutually facilitate personal growth. It is truly rewarding to witness the positive impact they have on each other’s lives.

No Hard Feelings is a perfect option for a mindless and enjoyable date night or a feel-good movie experience. Whether you choose to see it in the theater or wait for its release on streaming platforms, it can be just as effective as a cozy home viewing with snacks and a blanket, offering an easy escape from reality. However, beyond the strong performances by Lawrence and Feldman, the film falls short and might leave audiences slightly disappointed when it comes to any further depth or thought-provoking elements.

Grade: C+

Movie Review: ‘Extraction 2’ is a Massive Improvement


Director: Sam Hargrave
Writers: Joe Russo
Stars: Chris Hemsworth, Golshifteh Farahani, Olga Kurylenko

Synopsis: After barely surviving his grievous wounds from his mission in Dhaka, Bangladesh, Tyler Rake is back, and his team is ready to take on their next mission.


I didn’t care for the first Extraction. Apart from a sleekly constructed oner that occurred near the film’s beginning, the movie re-treads a dull (and problematic) white savior story shot with the racist piss-yellow filter that I thought Hollywood didn’t use anymore. However, the movie was a COVID-19 hit for Netflix, and a sequel was almost immediately greenlit. I was convinced it would be the same old stuff when Extraction 2 opened with yet another scene with Tyler Rake (Chris Hemsworth) in Bangladesh, with that yellow filter plastered all over the frame. 

But that doesn’t last long, with Rake being rushed to a hospital in Austria and forced to retire after the first film’s events. Rake’s retirement also doesn’t last long, as he is visited by an unnamed man (Idris Elba) who tells him that his ex-wife’s (Olga Kurylenko) sister (Tinatin Dalakishvili) is imprisoned in a Georgian prison cell. Rake arrives with Nik (Golshifteh Farahani) and Yaz (Adam Bessa) to help out, and…it’s not that simple of an extraction. Ketevan’s (Dalakishvili) husband (Tornike Bziava) is waiting for Rake to arrive, whilst her son, Sandro (Andro Japardize), communicates with his uncle (Tornike Gogrichiani), who leads a ruthless criminal organization. 

This leads into the film’s first action sequence, which is an unbroken one-take that goes from the prison walls to the prison courtyard, then leads into an insane car chase in the woods with bikers trying to blow up Rake and Nik’s cars, which then finishes on a moving train, with Rake trying to fight off a helicopter with a minigun, while Nik tries to keep the train going but has to face off with enemies of her own. At some point, Rake’s fist catches fire, and he starts punching dudes left and right with it until it extinguishes itself as he punches more people. Yes, some will criticize that it’s not a truly “unbroken” cut and that the digital cuts are quite obvious. However, when the craft is so strong, from its masterful camerawork, which logically follows each respective character and switches to multiple perspectives throughout the scenes naturally, and its staggering stuntwork, there’s no shortage of moments where you’re likely to slap your seat in utter excitement, having witnessed an action sequence for the ages. 

In that twenty-one-minute scene, there’s so much your brain can’t process that you will immediately suspend your disbelief and enjoy the ride. Hargrave and cinematographer Greg Baldi pull no punches in crafting a mind-melting, maximalist action setpiece that will surely be in your top five of the year. It’s not an issue that the digital cuts are obvious since it’s likely impossible to craft a setpiece like this in one continuous take. Hargrave understands this and knows the audience understands it too. But he doesn’t care — he makes you believe the impossible is possible and crafts four terrific action scenes in one. 

The thrills continue with a sequence inside a cramped apartment room. And while it isn’t as sleek as the film’s main attraction, it has its fair share of moments in which Rake creatively uses the environment around him to defeat a slew of infinite (yet amazingly disposable) villains. Hemsworth is in top form as Rake and will perhaps be remembered as a bigger action star in films of the Extraction franchise than in his tenure as Thor in the MCU. He is a fully-fledged action star, giving his own spin to the “Sad Action Hero canon.” He gives a far deeper performance here than in the original, particularly in scenes where he recalls the last time he saw his late son and with his ex-wife, wonderfully portrayed by Olga Kurylenko. 

However, the show-stealer of Extraction 2 is Golshifteh Farahani, whose arc greatly expands from the first and is a major part of the action. Granted, she was heavily involved in the first film’s climax. However, in Extraction 2, she outshines Hemsworth on several occasions, particularly during specific moments in the film’s core action sequences, from the engine car fight to the rooftop shootout and culminating in a John Woo-esque gun duel between Nik and Zurab in a chapel. Farahani is a bonafide action star and is one of the very best parts of the movie. 
If Extraction 2 had a compelling plot, it likely would be as good as John Wick: Chapter 4. But the film ultimately fails at crafting a compelling antagonist that isn’t riddled with stereotypes and clichés,  just like Sandro’s arc has been done one too many times before not to feel predictable. However, one will seemingly forget its flaws and think they’re minor nitpicks since the audience has clicked on Extraction 2 to see Hemsworth kicking ass in more ways than one. In that regard, the movie delivers and is one of the year’s best and most inventive action pictures. It’s a damn shame that Netflix didn’t release it in every cinema possible, but here’s hoping the third one gets the IMAX treatment. I’ll be there on day one.

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Love To Love You, Donna Summer’ Covers New Ground


Director: Brooklyn Sudano and Roger Ross Williams
Stars: Michael McKean, Barbra Streisand, Brooklyn Sudano

Synopsis: Follows the life of iconic singer Donna Summer.


These days, it’s easy to forget that there was a time when it wasn’t socially acceptable to take disco music seriously. It was seen as a vulgar, trashy genre that lacked depth and sophistication. Even pioneers of the genre, such as Giorgio Moroder and Wally Holmes, were dismissed as coke-snorting party animals who indulged in mindless pleasure. The divas who served as the public face of the genre had an even more difficult time gaining respect from audiophiles and critics. Over the years, efforts have been made to rehabilitate the reputation of the genre but there is still a lingering sense, in some circles, that it was a frivolous fad that should be left in the past. 

No one seems more primed for a critical re-evaluation than Donna Summer, who was one of the most commercially successful recording artists of the 1970s. In addition to delighting audiences with her brassy stage persona, Summer recorded some of the most innovative songs of the 1970s. “I Feel Love” and “Love to Love You Baby” signaled the fact that the Moog synthesizer could be employed to create a futuristic, otherworldly soundscape that made club-goers want to get up and dance. She also became a prominent gay icon, who projected an air of breezy sexuality that stood in stark contrast to the brand of prim conservatism that had been typically associated with pop singers. She managed to personify a very specific time in American history and her large body of work has served as a major influence on modern dance music. 

For the most part, Love to Love You, Donna Summer (2023) serves to elevate Summer’s position in the canon of American popular music. This approach serves the documentary’s subject well, as it manages to set itself apart from the likes of Miss Americana (2020) and Angèle (2021). Those were intimate exposés that devoted a considerable amount of their running times to exploring the personal lives of their subjects. This documentary has an unusually strong sociopolitical dimension that regularly comes to the fore. There are times when it even begins to feel like an editorial on the mistreatment of women of color in an industry that is largely dominated by white men. I say this as a compliment, as it has become increasingly difficult to find family-approved bio-docs that are willing to expand their scope beyond the personal. Roger Ross Williams and Brooklyn Sudano endeavor to move beyond the conventions associated with this genre in order to produce something that feels more politically charged. It’s this unique perspective that provides this documentary with its backbone and prevents it from drifting into bathos. 

Longtime fans will also be given the opportunity to pore over recently unearthed archival footage and in-depth analysis of some of the deeper cuts from Summer’s discography. It’s nice to hear them play the biggest hits, but it really does count for something when they begin to consider the later stages of her career. Like so many stars who created an iconic stage persona, Summer was forced to reinvent herself in the years following the disco boom. The backlash to the genre’s success was swift and she struggled to avoid being seen as a passé cultural commodity in the early 1980s. This documentary provides us with a window into how the music industry handles these ups and downs and details Summer’s conflicted response to the changes that swept through the disco scene during this period. We get to view her as a canny businesswoman who knows how to play all the right angles for maximum effect. This is a quality that we associate with many pop stars but this documentary is unusually candid in its treatment of this issue. 
If you’re already a dedicated fan of Summer, you’ll walk away from this documentary feeling satisfied. It covers ground that hasn’t been trodden over in the countless biographies that have been written about her and avoids making too many generalizations about her career. More surprisingly, this is a documentary that still presents a certain appeal for those who are not all that familiar with her work. Everybody is interested in the inner workings of an industry that works very hard to project a shadowy, mysterious aura and Love to Love You, Donna Summer gives you a peek behind the curtain. This is more than just a promotional puff piece and for that we can all be glad.

Grade: B

Movie Review (Tribeca Film Festival 2023): ‘Afire’ Holds the Audience in a Trance


Director: Christian Petzold
Writers: Christian Petzold
Stars: Thomas Schubert, Paula Beer, Enno Trebs

Synopsis: A group of friends in a holiday home by the Baltic Sea where emotions run high as the parched forest around them catches fire.


Christian Petzold is a chameleonic director, though not in the sense that people might expect when a person is described with such an adjective. The German filmmaker has been able to dwell within several genres – neo-noir (Jerichow), thriller (Something to Remind Me), heist (Cuba Libre), horror (Yella) – without losing touch on his central theme, addressing current social predicaments in Germany. Although some of his DFFB (German Film and Television Academy Berlin GmbH) contemporaries, Angela Schanelec and Thomas Arslan, also tackle that topic in fascinating ways, none do so to the same effect as Petzold. The way he translates and expresses his ideas through images holds his contemporary dispositions within a classicist glance, learning from old forms and stories to bring life to newer ones. It is admirable what he has been able to achieve throughout the years. With each decade that passes, Petzold demonstrates new mechanisms and techniques inspired by legendary auteurs – his form keeps aging like fine wine. 

Most recently, Christian Petzold has been doing a series of films centered around elemental and fantasy-like atmospheres. Undine was the introductory piece to the triptych whose underpinning principle is mythology. And it was one of those films that grew on me as I rewatched and thought about it afterward. The aforementioned film told the tale of the mythical water nymph but with a present-day twist. It used the rich history of German architecture as a metaphor for its leading doomed romance, delivering a haunting and sentimental picture that hypnotized the viewer. Via its mythical elements, Petzold explored the intertwinings between desire and memory, how the former can amend our lives. And now, he has crafted another film in which he blends mythos with realism. He turns this mixture into a devastating and occasionally hilarious tragicomedy – Afire (Roter Himmel), which won the Silver Bear Grand Jury Prize at this year’s Berlin Film Festival. 

When you thought he had shown us the best of his skills in previous projects like Phoenix and Transit, Petzold switches gears in Afire. He crosses different boundaries and genres to provide an allegory of the climate crisis through the eyes of a man who can’t come out of his shell. As its German title suggests, which translates to red sky, Petzold is working with another element this time around, fire – both literal (forest fires) and metaphorical (our incandescent hearts) flames that awaken our souls. However, by setting the film on the German Riviera, near the Baltic Coast, he also relies on aquatic imagery to fuel the clash between the characters’ respective emotions. The beautiful landscapes and characters we meet will continue to retain their allure, even after they are devoured by impending tragedy. So, when this journey ends, Afire presents us with a beautiful truth many will relate to. 

The story begins by introducing two of its leading players: Leon (Thomas Schubert), a wunderkind-like novelist working on his second book titled “Club Sandwich”, and his closest friend Felix (Langston Uibel), an art student. Haunted by the feeling of wanting to find artistic integrity in his sophomore novel, Leon has a quite resentful attitude toward the world; he’s quite obsessed with himself and the work he has been able to curate during his young career. He finds himself struggling with his writing because he lacks life experience; his social and interpersonal isolation drags him back, both as a person and a writer. You can say that he personifies main character syndrome without feeling it exhausting for the audience. The two of them are making their way to Felix’s family summer house on the northern Baltic Sea coastline. But things begin to go wrong as the car engine wears down, and they have to continue their travels on foot. 

Upon their arrival, Felix and Leon notice that someone else is living in the cottage – you hear the washing machine buzzing, a pair of high heels scattered across the floor, and leftover food on the fridge. Their skepticism and suspicion turn into curiosity and jaundice. Felix’s mom lets them know that they are not alone as Nadja (played by Petzold’s current muse, Paula Beer), a Russian woman who claims to be a seasonal worker, inhabits one of the rooms. Immediately, you sense the aura of mystery around the recondite woman and Leon’s antipathy toward her. Leon awaits his publisher, Helmut (Matthias Brandt), who doesn’t seem to have the best news imaginable for the manuscript he’s concocting. As time passes without his appearance, Leon’s attitude affects everyone around him. His dynamics with the people living in the house get even more fractured when Nadja’s lover, a David Hasselhoff-like lifeguard named Devid (Enno Trebs), enters the scene. 

The machismo and constant seduction that Devid expresses through his body language and the stories he shares make Leon’s life a living hell. His first response is tuning out and distancing himself from this jovial crew. You would think that Petzold might depict the usual narrative strands of a love triangle with his latest work Afire. And although moments represent the intertwinings between three people and their respective seductions, there’s more than meets the eye. Interpersonal dynamics unpredictably shift amongst these characters in quite funny – relying on comedy more than you’d expect – and devastating ways, especially for the ever-wounding and brooding Leon. But Nadja’s wistful presence awakens an inner fire inside his heart. The problem is that he can’t share those emotions. Leon doesn’t contain the inner calm to connect or feel joy with these people. I believe that aspect is what draws intrigue to Schubert’s character. 

Although really unpleasant, rude, and self-obsessed, you end up feeling for him because there’s a relatability factor with his isolation, even if you are confronted by his frustratingly narcissistic persona. That’s why Nadja and Devid’s appearance at the house by the coast is a blessing and a curse for him. Throughout the entire runtime, you question whether Leon can express himself personally without hiding via that arrogance-riddled mask. In some cases, Afire can be viewed as a modern-day version of Pier Paolo Pasolini’s masterpiece, Theorem. In the aforementioned film, a stranger turns an Italian household upside down, seducing every family member and disappearing afterward. That helps them actualize and realize themselves in ways that are very specific to each person. Petzold does not include the existentialist crisis and the emptiness of the bourgeois that Pasolini depicted in his characters. Yet, he wants to see how the presence of one specific person can change your life for better or worse. 

In addition, both Theorem and Afire contain symbolic and literal ash in them, which serves a purpose to each respective film’s antithesis, one coming from Mount Etna and the other from forest fires. However, the ash in both films can be interpreted as a rebirth of some sort – the characters rise from the ashes onto a journey that has equal dashes of misfortune and hopefulness. That’s why, in the end, you feel an equal balance of detachment and sorrow from the main character. You sense his preoccupation with supercilious banalities in the face of damnation because, in some way, shape, or form, it has happened to us, alongside his inability to connect with all of these things that we consider emotionally moving. We haven’t seen Petzold depict characters in this manner. And it is quite surprising how he made us relate to such an antagonistic person. 

Even if Hans Fromm – Petzold’s cinematographer of choice – deserves significant props for lensing these beautiful and striking images, the tactility in the small cast’s performances deserves equal praise. As Thomas Schubert portrays a man with such repressed intensity, Paula Beer channels the opposite. She brings life to the world Leon is darkening via his persona. These two are generational talents in the making; both deserve everyone’s attention. You won’t see many actors portraying complex emotions as easily as them. While there’s some restraint regarding style and innovation, Petzold trusts his cast to carry Afire’s emotional weight on its back. And they genuinely deliver the necessary breadth to hold the audience in a trance. 

Grade: A

In The Name Of Pride: Underrated LGBTQ Films In Honor Of Pride Month

It’s the summertime and it shines always bright for LGBT Pride month. All the cities get loud and proud regardless of all the hatred from their archrivals, Christian fundamentalists, and today, they are being threatened at all levels. Pride parades are very important to have in the face of discrimination. A lot of movies and TV shows also feature a lot of gay-positive stories and characters today, far from the lack of storylines in the past. A number of them from the past are also very underrated and don’t get recognized as much as other classics. Here are a few that also deserve its recognition as a great LGBT film.

Bound (1996)

In the first film by The Wachowskis, they went with an erotic noir following a female ex-con (Gina Gershon) who seduces a mobster’s girlfriend (Jennifer Tilly) and they plan together to heist millions from them. Also starring Joe Pantoliano, John Ryan, and Christopher Meloni pre-Law & Order: SVU days; the Wachowskis were able to make this on a tight budget with its strong lesbian themes and not be the drive force to the story. It was only their second credited work after Assassins, and from there, they would make The Matrix – an allegory to their identity as transgender women many years later. 

In & Out (1997)

Tom Hanks’ acceptance speech at the Oscars for his performance in Philadelphia inspired Frank Oz’s comedy about a teacher (Kevin Kline) who is engaged, only to see a former student (Matt Dillon) win an Oscar and inadvertently outs him. Joan Cusack received an Oscar nomination as the suddenly-jilted fiancee; Tom Selleck plays a reporter who seeks the backstory and gives his support while the teacher tries to prove that he is straight, but it proves to be difficult to do. It was one of the first mainstream Hollywood gay comedies and handles the subject without the sex and low blow jokes.    

Kinky Boots (2005)

Most will know about the Tony Award-winning musical of this title, but that comes from the original film, which itself is based on a true story. Facing bankruptcy, a shoe factory owner finds a new product to make for an unexpected clientele: boots for drag queens. Joel Edgerton plays the young factory manager who comes up with the dramatic idea to save his business. Chiwetel Ejiofor is the leading drag queen who has to deal with racism and homophobia from the workers who are uncomfortable with his presence. It’s a really charming film and not the only British, true story-based movie on the list.

Pride (2014)

Of course, a film called Pride was going to be there. It is this historical dramedy about a group of activists who form an unlikely partnership to support a major strike by coal miners. The path to their acceptance is tense though, as the miners want nothing to do with them during the opening years of the AIDS pandemic in Britain where homophobia is rife. Bill Nighy, Imelda Staunton, Andrew Scott, Dominic West, and Ben Schenetzer are part of an ensemble that connects the generations through a noble cause and a community of outcasts that proves themselves to be relatable. 

BPM (Beats Per Minute) (2017)

Director Robin Campillo used his experience as part of the militant AIDS advocacy group ACT UP as the basis of this electrifying movie which won the Grand Prix at Cannes. As the number of dead rises and the struggle for proper treatment from the government staggers on, the group continues to protest in various ways, even creating chaos on the ground that causes friction and questioning if it is working. Within the drama, a romance blossoms between an outspoken HIV-positive young man and a shy newcomer, even as it becomes obvious they will be short on time together. It’s passionate, it’s fierce, and it is exhilarating to see a heart-pounding story. 

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Statement Making Seventies Science Fiction

Despite what may be perceived now as hokey special effects or over the top, low budget fare, these science fiction parables from the seventies era provide intriguing commentary then and now.

Crimes of the Future

Not to be confused with David Cronenberg’s recent, unrelated Crimes of the Future, this 1970 short and its nil budget dystopian bizarre with poor pacing and structural flaws is not for everyone. Fortunately, the silence, slow movement, and stillness match the 1997 concrete, fallen industrialized affluence, and empty isolation. An androgynous cleric clad in black provides an unreliable, detached report on how a cosmetics plague has killed all the women and led to increasing gender and social changes. Red nail polish worn on the left hand or painted toe nails decide who is mugged, beaten, or allowed to consume the “chocolate” secreted by “special” men since there are no women. Repetitive sorting socks or underwear scenes reflect a perverted ritual collection while barefoot and white gloved pedophiles have disturbing secret meetings. Distorted sounds and an in limbo atmosphere create unease as the repression escalates to wicked violence, child trafficking, and terrible sexual deviance all seemingly justified as an attempt to find a cure. It would be fascinating to see Cronenberg redo this as a full bodied film today. Venereal disease references, biological differences, and veiled statements on institutionalizing homosexuals for “therapy” are ahead of their time, and the ironic title belies an upsetting real world horror finale.

Quintet

A solitary, bearded, and bundled Paul Newman (The Hustler) leads this icy, desolate 1979 tale of a snowbound civilization where birds are rare, seal hunting is scarce, and trees are memories. Information is lost and no one is really sure how many years it has been as echoes, broken glass, icicles, and dangerous crackling sounds accent the ruined photos and damaged crystal chandeliers. Despite his chilled exterior, Newman’s Essex isn’t unfeeling. However, he has a list of names due revenge and the killings must play out within the high stakes Quintet rules. The mysterious sixth man in a five player game adds an interesting confusion to the high brow competition, and viewers must pay attention to the one man chess amid coercion, explosions, Latin oaths, slit throats, and assumed identities. Prowling dogs, frozen carcasses, and on location filming at the abandoned Montreal Expo create realism, and the titular pentagon shaped symbolism dominates the futuristic furniture and decor. Although frosted glass and mirrors help hide the small scale production’s cut corners, director Robert Altman’s (The Long Goodbye) Vaseline framed camera lens is too noticeable today as is the stilted start and plodding runtime. At times, the game concepts fall flat and the try hard cult-like tournament mentality doesn’t quite come across. Thankfully, the desperate, nothing left to do but kill pointlessness hits home. Tense shocks and insensitive deceptions accent the cerebral tone as the intriguing melancholy escalates in the final act. This somber, life imitating art statement is eerily prophetic in the notion of games and movies becoming social reality obsessions.


Saturn 3

Underground Titan bases, a twenty-two day eclipse, cut off communication, and evil robots spell doom for Kirk Douglas (Spartacus), Farrah Fawcett (Charlie’s Angels), and Harvey Keitel (Mean Streets) in this 1980 British tale. Certain unnecessary set pieces obviously influenced by Star Wars could have been excised to leave the isolated supply run’s ulterior intentions unknown. Weird scene transitions and erroneously epic music also try hard as uneven, commonplace machine chases are placed above the intriguing personal elements. Choppy editing reveals the behind the scenes troubles before an apparent twist and meandering action underestimate the audience and pad the final twenty minutes. Thankfully, the hydroponics lab is cool with artificially blue tinted water and green lit plants for our couple who has never been to earth, gone outside, or breathed real air. Unfortunately, chess with their machine leads to ominous device sounds and sinister spying while conversations in the shower, sheer robes, nudity, sex, and drug experimentation stir the pot between our older gent, his younger woman, and the newcomer blunt about his desire. Eerie, self re-assembling, advanced, demigod robots intend to replace the once idyllic and now obsolete couple amid symbolic jacking in interfaces, blasting hoses, and heads sliding into the robot cavity. Scary injuries and creepy surgeries create tension alongside arguments, violent tendencies, and foolish attempts to think one can control the intelligent machinery. Though flawed in not focusing on the taut science fiction triangle; references to Hector, Troy, and the original fight over a woman accent the man versus man, man versus nature, and man versus himself conflicts.

Westworld

Androids run amok in this 1973 sci-fi western written and directed by Michael Crichton (Coma). Crichton’s debut direction is simplistic with of the time slow motion and aimless running to and fro amid preposterous logistics and safety ignorance. Then-futuristic empty white sets and technobabble gibberish are filler alongside big computer wows and now unnecessary pixelated robot viewpoints. The colorful saloon facades, medieval games, and Roman hedonism don’t look that bad considering the paltry million dollar budget, however modern viewers will probably expect more from the catastrophic resort meltdown than a one on one pursuit and abrupt finale. Fortunately, there are mechanical malfunctions, shootouts, feastings, brothels, and bar fights a plenty. Guns, swords, and sex robots add to the cool for James Brolin (Skyjacked) as we fear the gloriously unyielding, Terminator-esque, gunslinger in black Yul Brynner (The King and I). This is the ultimate vacation where man has his decadent and violent desires fulfilled, but it’s all controlled by technicians behind the scenes who eat while they watch the depravity unfold. Guests sleep unaware as suspicious, misbehaving man made machines reset the excess. Are these possibly sentient androids fed up with human seductions and taking matters into their own hands for one destructive hurrah before their batteries fail? Though at times the potential is undercooked, the western meets SF peril provides enough food for thought.

Zardoz

Ruffian Sean Connery (Goldfinger) upsets the hedonist future in this 1974 international production directed by John Boorman (Excalibur) brimming with 2293 post-apocalyptic horseback warriors and a surreal floating head spewing ammunition from its giant mouth. Immortals playing god tell Exterminators to kill the lesser Brutals with guns is good and penis is evil mantras, and understandably the population control allegories can get lost in the often laughable flying head, psychedelic crystals, and giant green pretzels. The overlong, trippy seventies production shows its limitations with goofy happenings, saucy vignettes, and intercut montages strung together via psychic induced strokes and an immortal vortex with a cool decoder ring. Our flying head cruises to the quaint English countryside with relics of the past where jealous women and fey men disturbed by Connery’s masculinity rely on an advanced computer intelligence before being so idle they become catatonic. Trials where the penalty is aging and realizations that what you’ve been led to believe is now the corruption you were trying to prevent provide intriguing nuggets, truth will outs, and revenge. Despite a rushed action finale, man shooting at himself in the mirror to destroy his fallible god and high concepts such as artificial intelligence, cloning, reverse eugenics, and euthanasia overcome the silly design. Modern viewers have to laugh at the ridiculous deus ex machina wizards and nonsensical screaming yet this deserves to be watched more than once for the Tree of Knowledge osmosis, jacking into their matrix insights, and snake in the garden sex making man both savior and destruction.

Movie Review: ‘Asteroid City’ is Exactly What You Expect From Anderson


Director: Wes Anderson
Writers: Wes Anderson and Roman Coppola
Stars: Jason Schwartzman, Scarlett Johansson, Tom Hanks

Synopsis: The itinerary of a Junior Stargazer convention is spectacularly disrupted by world-changing events.


The “filmmaker vs. author” debate has always been one of the most snobbish, elitist discussions in the world of cinema. Personally, I avoid at all costs using the second term, simply because it’s more often used as an attempt to belittle other directors than to boost those who supposedly deserve that label. That said, Wes Anderson possesses what all filmmakers desire – or should desire – to achieve: an unquestionably unique style that any cinephile can recognize through a single frame. Whether people appreciate the writer-director or not, no year goes by where one of his movies isn’t one of the most anticipated. Well then, here comes Asteroid City

Wes Anderson makes it difficult for viewers to be surprised. The qualities and flaws of his films, especially on the technical side, are practically the same, movie after movie. The filmmaker usually works with the same people in the various technical departments, and Asteroid City is no exception to this rule, with Adam Stockhausen (production designer), Robert Yeoman (cinematographer), and Alexander Desplat (composer) being the most common colleagues throughout his career. His way of telling stories through deadpan dialogue and humor – a deliberate display of neutral or null emotion – remains an essential feature of his narratives.

Starting precisely with this last aspect, Wes Anderson is, by far, the filmmaker who best manages to transform the ridiculous, absurd, and surreal into something more accessible to the general audience. Even if a film is purposely devoid of emotion, it’s not always easy to feel captivated by the narrative or the characters, much less create an emotional connection with them. In the case of Asteroid City and many of the filmmaker’s other movies, the loaded cast with dozens of A-listers and its appealing visual aesthetic help grab viewers’ attention.

On the other side of the coin, the narrative randomness and the lack of a more cohesive, coherent main plot, in addition to the rarely emotive scenes, contribute to the estrangement of the audience. However, perhaps due to a simpler and more direct premise, as well as more impressive performances, Asteroid City offers a lighter, more enjoyable viewing than The French Dispatch, also due to deadpan being better executed and performed, especially in the area of comedy. The rapid-fire, extremely complex dialogues and monologues – tons of words in a few seconds – are truly mesmerizing and demonstrate the pure talent of some actors – Jeffrey Wright is exceptional in this regard.

Utilizing Bryan Cranston as an excellent narrator, the screenplay of Asteroid City contains a story within a story. Edward Norton plays a screenwriter preparing his next play, and viewers follow his process throughout the film with occasional interruptions and transitions, but the main plot is the actual representation of that same play on the big screen. Wes Anderson even divides his movie into acts and respective scenes, explicitly displaying this information with title cards, helping viewers to navigate the several storylines.

Deep down, the “primary narrative” is nothing more than a mere connecting device between the diverse mini-stories that take place in certain parts of the city with a particular group of characters. Some have more screen time than others, but there’s not exactly a typical pair of protagonists. The closest to this “status” would be Jason Schwartzman and Scarlett Johansson. The actors mostly share the spotlight, with the former having another role on the “real” side, along with Norton.

Regarding the performances, my personal standout has to be Maya Hawke. The young actress plays a teacher responsible for her class’s field trip to Asteroid City, having greater expressive and emotional freedom, as well as some of the funniest sequences in the entire film – Rupert Friend also has merit here. Steve Carell exudes all his charisma as a motel manager. All the others are expectedly phenomenal, understanding the director’s intentions perfectly by delivering stoic performances, even if some are just cameos with a single line or a scene.

As expected, not all groups of characters have an interesting narrative. Viewers will feel more intrigued by some mini-stories than others, but everyone partially suffers from the lack of something more thematic. Asteroid City is indeed quite random, and despite much of this being the filmmaker’s purpose, there are times when it seems that it’s the audience that has to make an effort to enjoy the movie rather than the latter winning over the viewers. The only exception would be the tragic past of a grieving family, but it’s extremely difficult to address a topic as sensitive and inherently emotional as the death of a loved one when it’s not “allowed” to display any kind of sentimental expression or conversation.

Technically, there are no doubts surrounding the inevitable nominations for production design and cinematography, with editing, costume design, and make-up also being worthy of awards. It’s genuinely fascinating to observe the stunningly built sets, the lovely color palette, and the exquisite camera panning right-to-left and up-and-down. Still, it’s Desplat’s score that took me by surprise. Asteroid City benefits immensely from the composer’s background music, which fits like a glove into the city’s astronomic, desert environment, adding a nice layer of fun on top of the deadpan humor.

For fans of Wes Anderson, Asteroid City doesn’t disappoint, offering exactly what was expected from it. For viewers who don’t exactly appreciate the filmmaker’s style, I don’t think this film will convert you. Personally, it’s nowhere near the level of The Grand Budapest Hotel, but it’s a considerable improvement over The French Dispatch.

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Maggie Moore(s)’ is a Darkly Comic Noirish Tale


Director: John Slattery
Writers: Paul Bernbaum
Stars: Jon Hamm, Louisa Krause, Tina Fey

Synopsis: Police Chief Sanders investigates the bizarre murders of two women with the same name and unravels a web of small-town lies. He meets and quickly falls for Rita, a nosy neighbor who is eager to help solve the mystery.


Films like Maggie Moore(s) rely on style over substance and, hopefully, a story and dialogue reminiscent of a great Elmore Leonard noir. Directed by Mad Men’s alum John Slattery, his second feature film behind the camera since God’s Pocket is a throwback to those ’90s crime films which the website CrimeReads called “The Leonardssance.” A movie that has an ear for snappy dialogue, how people really talk (mostly), quirky characters, satisfying crimes, and a killer villain. If only Slattery and the script by Paul Bernbaum left the listless romance at the deli counter.

The story follows a local police chief Jordan Sanders (Jon Hamm), who oversees the service and protection of the residents of a small, desert New Mexico town. It’s a quiet town where most adult characters seem to be searching for happiness in their mundane lives. That includes the police chief, who lost his wife recently to cancer and takes a night class to explore the power of creative writing, being fodder for divorced single women in the area. However, his job is about to get a lot more interesting, as not one but two women turn up dead, both with the same name.

Those are Maggie Moore, the only two women with that moniker. Bernbaum’s script is clever, playing with the timeline in the first act. One of the women (Louisa Krause) is the bitterly unhappy wife of Jay (Micah Stock), who is floundering in debt, trying to keep his sandwich shop open and pay for his wife’s psychiatry bills. To help make ends meet, he violates his franchise agreement by buying expired deli meats and cheeses at a discount from Tommy T (Derek Brasco) in exchange for being his mule for illegal packages. Jay soon discovers that the packages include filthy pictures of underage girls and Tommy is a known sex offender. Jay’s wife finds the envelope and plans on using it to take everything he owns.

Jay and Maggie’s neighbor is Rita (Tina Fey), the nosy type who watches them from her window, doesn’t have any friends, and is still dealing with the breakup of an abusive boyfriend. She is the last to see Maggie alive and soon develops a friendship with Sanders during the investigation. This pleases Sanders’s partner, Deputy Reddy, who thinks his boss needs to stop looking for an emotional connection and find a physical one. Together, they investigate links to the two cases in a desert full of lies, contract killers, and lonely souls to solve the mystery tailor-made for Keith Morrison.

You may find Maggie Moore(s) a tough initial watch, as the thought of a queasy mix of talking about a pedophile and pictures of rotting lunch meat makes for a revolting introduction. However, as the story progresses, the fascinating plot begins to top itself as the timeline takes shape, and the killers keep doubling down at the risk of exposure in covering up their actions. Part of the fun is watching Jay, played by Stock, continue to unravel. Stock has a natural talent for juggling subtle comedic levity and anxiety-filled tension, a mix of painfully funny and awkward moments unique to actor, writer, and director Jim Cummings.

What Slattery does so well is to maintain a seamless tone, even when the story shifts to Hamm and Fey’s characters developing a rapport. While the other character relationships have quick, quippy dialogue, andyou may feel the script could use a little more restraint, I couldn’t help but think that Rita and Jacob needed a little more quirk and heat in their interactions or even a dark secret or two. Their relationship feels like it was expanded beyond its limits to give the stars more screen time. That being said, there are some entertaining performances, particularly one of my favorites, the scene-stealing Mary Holland (The Package, Happiest Seasons), who plays the other Maggie, and Happy Anderson (Bird Box), a deaf contract killer who brings deft comic timing to a stoic role.

Maggie Moore(s) is based on actual events, though the scheme plays like Jerry Lundegaard’s harebrained plan, made famous in Fargo (and portrayed by William H. Macy). While Slattery’s film could never be confused with the Coen brothers’ black comedy masterpiece, Maggie Moore(s) is a darkly comic, Elmore Leonard-inspired tale. While the subplot of Hamm’s pursuit for happiness becomes too heavy-handed for my tastes by the end of the third act, the overall story is a quick shot of true crime adrenaline that becomes addictive by the film’s end.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Elemental’ is a Surprisingly Nuanced Metaphor For The Immigrant Experience


Director: Peter Sohn
Writers: John Hoberg, Kat Likkel, and Brenda Hsueh
Stars: Leah Lewis, Mamoudou Athie, Ronnie Del Carmen

Synopsis: Follows Ember and Wade, in a city where fire-, water-, land- and air-residents live together.


Pixar is one of the few studios with sky-high expectations with every animated film release. Every single effort has the potential to become a classic, which happens when your first film is Toy Story. A studio with the guts to avoid sequels during its first ten releases has some magic from Pixar’s initial run. Their latest, Elemental, the studio’s label of stunning animation, a visual marvel, along with a heart-swelling story, a beautifully captivating Thomas Newman score, and a script that has a surprisingly hard time developing a sense of humor.

Elemental follows the story of the vast and vibrant cultures of Element City, where members of the fire, water, land, and air communities live together, but not exactly in harmony, but tend to interact with their own kind. That’s because some elements don’t mix. For instance, water can douse fire, and fire can boil water. The film’s main character, Ember (Leah Lewis), resides in Firetown. Ember is being trained by her father, Bernie (Ronnie Del Carmen), and her mother, Cinder (Shila Ommi), to take over the family business, a convenience store called The Fireplace, a local market known for its Richard Montañez-like flamin’ hot firewood nuggets, eternal blue flame from the old country, and her mother’s tarot card readings.

Ember has all the makings to be successful in taking over the family business if it wasn’t for her blazing hot temper that burns purple. After dealing with a resident who felt “buy one get one free” sparklers met the “just want the free one” condition, she screamed in the basement, causing the water pipes to burst (which is strange since the water was shut off from Firetown years ago). That brings in rushing water and a city inspector, an emotional water being named Wade Ripple (Mamoudou Athie), who was sucked into the pipes and must report the numerous violations he comes across. To avoid all the fines that could put the Fireplace out of business, Wade’s boss, a stormy cloud named Gale (Wendi McLendon-Covey), enlists them to find the water source and fix the issue to save her family business.

Elemental is directed by Peter Sohn, his follow-up to Pixar’s The Good Dinosaur. Sohn is working with a screenplay from John Hoberg, Kat Likkel, and Brenda Hsueh, a team whose resumes are writing for Melissa & Joey and Truth Be Told. Elemental’s most significant issue is that the movie is void of humor, with the jokes being only amusing at best. However, what Elemental does have going for it is a deeply thematic and rich story about first-generation immigrants, vulnerable populations, and the overall level of acceptance. The story of the Lumens is told through a lens of the first-generation immigrant family experience, touching on issues of assimilation, economics, prejudice, and freedom of choice, the latter being particularly relevant for the second generation, who are the main reason for migrating in the first place to bring them a better life. There’s a wonderful sense of community in Elemental, with the Fireplace as a community center where residents can gather.

The entire film is a gigantic metaphor for the division we live in. Sohn and his writing identify themes of socioeconomic issues that come with division and members of disadvantaged communities. You’ll see how the Lumens and the residents of Firetown are examples of concentrated poverty. When the Lumens arrive in Element City, their names are changed during their admission, similar to stories you would hear at Ellis Island. Bernie and Cinder are guided to the poorest part of town because that’s all they can afford, and “their kind” are considered a danger to an area different from theirs. (The issues of prejudice are shown with people’s concerns about “fire” burning down their homes, but you can see this being an inspiration for “blockbusting” and keeping property values high). Elemental’s subtle candy-coated storytelling of these themes makes the animated film brave and profound. You’ll even watch The Ripples, clearly the wealthy and influential residents of the area, as one of Wade’s older relatives has a “well-meaning” racial microaggression comment about how Ember “speaks so well.”

While some won’t pick up on those subtle nuances, what many mainstream fans will love is the superb marriage of the film’s jaw-dropping animation and the soul-stirring romance between Ember and Wally. The characters’ vibrancy is constantly fluid and in motion, which is meticulous, with the remnants of smoke, smut, and droplets left behind. At the same time, you’ll also notice the speed of Ember’s frames or the morphing of Wally’s body changing depending on their emotions and moods. The colors and textures can be breathtaking, mainly when Ember and Wade express romantic feelings. (For example, the film’s best moment is when they can touch without putting either character in danger). Still, the film’s storytelling, along with Elemental’s vibrant and marvelous visuals as a whole, is a very good, animated romance but fails when it panders to the audience’s expectations of including broad comedy. Some of the best bits, like Wally as a child getting stuck in a sponge, are cute but rarely induce any out loud laughter. Elemental hits the right notes with the love story and familial moments – I will say the script comes dangerously close with Wally “whitesplaining” to Ember why she should go against cultural expectations – Sohn’s overall experience is positive, as he tells a familiar story with subtle social commentary.

Grade: B+

Movie Review (Tribeca Film Festival 2023): ‘Final Cut’ is Not Enough of A Separation From the Original


Director: Michel Hazanavicious
Writers: Michel Hazanavicious, Shin’ichirô Ueda, and Ryoichi Wada
Stars: Romain Duris, Bérénice Bejo, Grégory Gadebois

Synopsis: Things go badly for a small film crew shooting a low budget zombie movie when they are attacked by real zombies.


Last year’s Cannes Film Festival opened with a surprising film that many didn’t expect to play there – Michel Hazanavicious’ Final Cut (Coupez!), a French-language remake of the future horror cult hit, One Cut of the Dead. Festival-goers were baffled and confused at the decision that this would be the curtain raiser for one of the most prestigious cinematic events. It wasn’t beloved as some people thought it would be, yet it is slowly finding its audience. Now, the film is finally making its way onto the U.S. festival market by screening at the Tribeca Film Festival – releasing in select theaters in July. Was it worth the wait? Both yes and no, depending on how you look at it. While the film is too identical to separate itself from the original, Hazanavicius delivers enough funny self-referential quips and purposeful schlocky B-horror aesthetics to make the journey into an entertaining, yet rocky, ride. 

The film begins with a terribly made (and schlock-full) scene where a woman, Ava (Matilda Lutz), is being bitten by her now zombie boyfriend, Raphael (Finnegan Oldfield). No emotion or terror is running through the actors’ faces on-screen, which upsetsthe director, Remi (Romain Duris), a lot. This is supposed to be the last scene in the film, and he’s asking for another take – a thirty-second one, to be more specific – because the whole project will fall apart if it doesn’t work. Ava is trying to plead her case that she was portraying the scene correctly, but Remi begs to differ. As his frustrations grow, he has a rampage-heavy outburst where he slaps and insults some of the cast and crew right until Nadia (Bérénice Bejo) calms him down a bit. They banter about the director’s usual violent antics, as all of them are tired of his attitude. 

After a couple of minutes, a series of rather unfortunate events transpire. The crew appears to be turning into zombies, looking similar to those of George A. Romero’s Night of the Living Dead and Dawn of the Dead, with painted blue faces. Ava, Raphael, and Nadia try to run away and fight the zombies in their path. But, as seen in those types of movies, things descend into bloody hell quickly. Ava gets the title of ‘final girl’ as she is the only survivor of this massacre. Something interesting happens next; credits sequences appear on-screen, mocking the audience by presenting an array of metatextual layers – matryoshka doll, a film within a film within yet another film, all of which collide with one another to form an easy-flowing (albeit rocky) and funny ode to what it means to be a director. 

Final Cut shows a dual-sided story. The first, and central, storycenters around the ups and downs of the filmmaking process via the perspective of a frustrated French auteur that desperately wants to make his project work, even though it is falling apart completely. In this segment, the audience sees how a director and the producers pitch the project to the studio and its backers, how the crew tries to get a hold of the shoot’s troubling situations, and managing actors. We even see the first thirty minutes from another angle, via Remi’s perspective, as he pursues the double role of being in front of and behind the camera. It’s Michel Hazanavicius presenting a love letter to filmmaking and the pursuit of one’s vision. You feel his passion for the craft; how he directs these sequences of directorial struggles feels like it comes from first-hand experience. 

The second one is the movie Remi and his crew are making – a terribly made zombie flick. Here, we see plenty of homages to both genre and B-horror pictures from the 70s and 80s. The practicality of the effects and makeup, as we know how all of them were made by this point in the movie, is the crucial aspect of this segment. You see moments where Hazanavicius wants to channel his inner Romero, Fulci, or Bava. He doesn’t come close to having the mastery and refinery these aforementioned directors had. But, it is a different side of him that we haven’t seen before, partaking in a new genre to explore his love for the ins and outs of the cinematic experience. And although it has some technical downsides in terms of structure, it works more than one would expect. 

This isn’t the first time that he has done a remake, as Hazanavicius has directed a James Bond parody with OSS 117 and a haphazard Jean-Luc Godard biopic, Godard Mon Amour, in which he recreates scenes of La Chinoise. So, it makes sort of sense that he’d continue to make his versions of other established stories. There aren’t many highly notable changes between Ueda’s One Cut of the Dead and Hazanavicius’ Final Cut. But the latter suffers a bit from the “why is this being made” remake issues, as it doesn’t add much to what was established in the original, even though you are enjoying what you are seeing. During the middle section, we get a handful of scenes where characters talk about what Hazanavicius is doing, remaking a foreign language picture. These conversations are a fifty-fifty balance of funny and annoying because of its self-referential nature. Yet, it lets us know why the French filmmaker did this project. 

Their discussions are somewhat witty and make you think about what the pitch meetings for the vast vacuous remakes that have appeared throughout the years would be like. However, the more it explains itself to the audience, the more the movie loses steam. This issue arrives because Hazanavicius packs his remake with twenty more minutes than the original. He extends the runtime to expand on the self-referential idea of doing an unnecessary remake. Extremely heavy-handed remarks are present and hurt Final Cut’s latter half. For those who haven’t experienced One Cut of the Dead, Final Cut will feel like a fresh and bold horror-comedy venture. If you have seen both, you immediately recognize that Hazanavicius’ vision is more poe-face and charmless than the 2017 movie. Of course, this one would be inferior to the original, as the magic it conjured back when it was released felt special and unique. 

Replicating that feeling is a challenging task to do. Michel Hazanavicious tries his best and slightly succeeds in specific points. But Final Cut (Coupez!) is too identical to separate itself from it. At least you laugh and get showered in crimson red along the way. 

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘The Flash’ Speeds Towards Comic Book Movies’ Worst Tendencies


Director: Andy Muschietti
Writers: Christina Hodson and Joby Harold
Stars: Ezra Miller, Sasha Calle, Ben Affleck

Synopsis: Barry Allen uses his super speed to change the past, but his attempt to save his family creates a world without super heroes, forcing him to race for his life in order to save the future.


Through the years, there was plenty of talk about bringing the Scarlet Speedster called The Flash to the big screen. If you know a little about the character and some of his storylines, crafting a film centered around him would be pretty complicated. His stories mostly revolved around the character’s manipulation of time and the effects it brings upon him and the people he cares about the most. How was a director going to shoot the numerous super-speed or time-traveling sequences? The only way to do so is by pigging out on CGI; there is no other option, for better or worse – even if we know it is mainly for the latter. In 2014, it was finally announced that a film about the famous comic-book hero would be released, slowly paving the way for the DCEU (DC Extended Universe) and uniting the famed Justice League once and for all. But, as we all know, things didn’t go as planned. 

Directors arrived and departed the project left and right, with no one being at the helm. And amidst all that, the DCEU was getting even more fractured with each addition into that universe. Five years later, Argentine director Andy Muschietti, known for the modern adaptation of It, joined the project. Many things happened during those years of production – script (and narrative) changes, possibilities of its lead being recast, and the pandemic holding them back. Some of us even thought it would go down the dumper due to all of these issues. However, after all this waiting, The Flash has managed to get its big-screen premiere. Was it worth the nine-year wait from its announcement until its release? Some people (aka. superfans) call it one of the best comic-book movies of all time, depicting a rendition of the titular character’s classic storyline, ‘Flashpoint’. From my perspective, I call it a complete disappointment.

Barry Allen (Ezra Miller) is working hard, although without much progress, at a forensic lab in the city. The reason why he’s staying there and rolling with his co-worker’s punches is to finally get justice for his dad Henry (Ron Livingston), who was wrongly arrested for murdering his wife, Nora (Maribel Verdú). There’s one piece of evidence that might help his father’s case. But, the CCTV footage Bruce Wayne (Ben Affleck) provided is unclear, as Henry doesn’t look up, and his face can’t be seen. As his world collapses with the potential of being without someone who loves him, Barry ponders how he can use his super-speed abilities to go back in time and save his mother. Bruce warns him that manipulating time and events will lead to tremendous consequences via the butterfly effect. Of course, Barry is blinded by this possible resolution to his problems. So, he decides to do it anyway. 

The Flash got what he wanted; his mother is now alive. But General Zod (Michael Shannon) is threatening Earth in search of a missing Kryptonian hidden on the planet. In addition, his younger immature self – also played by Miller in a Dumb and Dumber-like routine that works on some occasions and grows increasingly frustrating on others – has received the time-altering powers from the original timeline’s Barry. The two Barrys must now seek help from one of the few heroes in that universe, an old and bearded Batman (Michael Keaton), whose persona on-screen seemed like he was going to quote Danny Glover in Lethal Weapon: “I’m getting too old for this s***”. It was apparent that this casting, alongside plenty of decisions, was done just for the sake of fan service. And unlike many other films that rely on the multiverse, which is a very tired concept by now, it wasn’t that annoying or eye-rolling. 

It was weird seeing Keaton back in the classic Tim Burton cowl. Yet, his action scenes were decently entertaining. Compared to Reeves or Nolan’s Batman action sequences, they were nothing to brag about. But, at the very least, it didn’t repeat what we have seen before with the character. Right until this point in the film, which is during its middle segments, I was surprisingly going with it. Some of the quips made me roll my eyes to the back of my head, including one where Barry saves a baby from a falling hospital by putting it in a microwave. At the same time, others made me chuckle due to their randomness. You got a quick glimpse of an emotional core in the film, an aspect that felt lacking in recent superhero pictures like Ant-Man & The Wasp: Quantumania or Shazam: Fury of the Gods. The audience began to feel the original Barry’s frustration with his decision and actions. He wants to fix things yet ruins everything else in the process. 

I know this narrative is present in all of the multiverse films. What The Flash wants to do isn’t original or even inventive. However, it felt easy-flowing and welcoming throughout this point in the movie. Right after the crew of two Barrys and Batman rescue Superman from this world, Kara Zor-El (a poorly used Sasha Calle), things get into very rocky territory. Andy Muschietti puts the film in a hole it can’t get out of, drowning it in its mediocre direction and messy structure. The Flash’s climax is a repetition of what we saw in Zack Snyder’s Man of Steel, although without the sense of logic or stylistic distinctiveness. The final explosive battle sets itself in a desert – one of the most boring locations for a grand finale – where Zod faces the Barry duo, Supergirl, and Batman. 

Things don’t go as planned, so they retread their steps and try another way. And they try again… and again… and again once more, only to bore the audience into oblivion with a scratched record manufacture of horrid CGI, no surprise factor, or texture. After watching this fight sequence almost eight times, we are treated to one of the worst conclusions in recent superhero flicks. If you thought the visual effects and cameo spoilage were frustrating, it gets more shoddy by the minute. Think the Scorpion King in The Mummy Returns and Henry Cavill’s digitally erased mustache in The Justice League-level bad. It is unacceptable that the film tries to blind the audience from its cop-out conclusion by manipulating them with cameos and appearances. This level of serving the fandom has reached a new low with The Flash. The heart that the first and half of the second one had was left aside to give audiences “what they wanted”. 

Andy Muschietti has made a film showcasing comic-book movies’ worst tendencies. Glimpses of this were seen throughout its entire runtime, albeit exaggerating it on its curtain closer – personifying the feeling of a mega fan standing in a theater and pointing at the screen. I left the film disappointed and exhausted. The former is because of what the film began plotting and what it ended up being; the lifeless curation of superhero movies causes the latter. The Flash is not the worst of its kind, although it definitely is one of the most vacuous expeditions into the multiverse. 

Grade: D

Movie Review: ‘Transformers: Rise of the Beasts’ Never Fulfills Its Promise


Directors: Steven Caple, Jr.
Writers: Joby Harold, Darnell Metayer, Josh Peters
Stars: Anthony Ramos, Dominique Fishback, Luna Lauren Velez

Synopsis: During the ’90s, a new faction of Transformers – the Maximals – join the Autobots as allies in the battle for Earth.


Can you fault a franchise that wants to ensure its audience gets their money’s worth? Of course, you can, but you can certainly respect the effort. That’s what the previous incarnations of Transformers fell into: the Bayhem experience. Not so much saturating but immersing the viewer with an onslaught of digital special effects and a bombardment of sound that even Armageddon told the series’ films in the science fiction franchise to quiet down. This version is now one Michael Bay short, and Transformers: Rise of the Beasts is the definition of “less is more,” learning from the one bearable film in the franchise, Bumblebee. However, the latest version of the Transformers franchise remains a cinematic action diversion we used to take for granted but still cannot quite recommend.

The year is 1994. There was no such thing as a smartphone. Friends was all the rage. O.J. Simpson was on television for eye-opening reasons, and social media outlets like Facebook, Twitter, and TikTok were flashes of genius not yet conceived. Hardly anyone had their own cell phone (look it up, kids). That’s why Noah (In the Heights’ Anthony Ramos) communicates with his little brother, Kris (Dean Scott Vazquez), via walkie-talkie. Noah is a decorated former military man and electronics expert trying to secure a job to help pay medical bills for Kris’s sickle cell anemia. After Noah was rejected for a job for not being a team player, he turns to crime by helping steal cars when the hospital refused to see his brother after being three months behind on bills.

When Noah tries to lift a historic Porsche 911 Carrera RS – I had to look that up – the car turns out to be a rebellious transformer named Mirage (Pete Davidson) who takes Noah with him because he answers the call of Optimus Prime (Peter Cullen) who is alerted to a signal that there may be a way home to Cybertron. That’s because Elena Wallace (Dominique Fishback), a research intern at a local museum, finds a key hidden in an ancient artifact that sends a signal in the sky, alerting not only the Transformers but also a group of deadly Terrorcons who want to liberate Earth of all its natural resources. To defeat the deadly robotic race, the Autobots work with the Transformer faction, the Maximals, Noah, and Elena to defeat the Terrorcons and return home.

Under the new direction of Steven Caple Jr. and with so many writers that you can form a basketball team (five in total), Transformers: Rise of the Beasts is a considerable improvement in the franchise. It’s a somewhat self-contained story that benefits from using a straightforward MacGuffin of finding, locating, and trying to keep the key(s) safe. However, that’s a double-edged sword since if you have ever watched the numerous other Transformer films, and this one is set in the past, Optimus Prime and his friends won’t be leaving Earth anytime soon, leaving much of the suspense at the concession stands for fans. I’ll add quickly the “Beasts” in the film, consisting of the Maximals, should be front and center but take a back seat here.

The script relies heavily on the connection between the lead character and a supporting Transformer, a staple dating back to Shia LaBeouf and HaileeSteinfeld’s association with the series’ most likable character, Bumblebee. However, here it relies too much on the audience’s enjoyment of Pete Davidson’s Mirage, who never forms a connection with Ramos’s Noah in the way the script needs to establish the emotional relationship it leads up to. Additionally, there is the subplot involving Noah and his family, with his mother strangely absent after a brief appearance. Furthermore, the sibling relationship is cute and heartwarming, but is it different from what we have seen in other action films? These are all standard tropes that remain unchanged regardless of resets or reboots.

Then there’s the script itself, which produces dialogue as if it’s being plagiarized, stealing one-liners from a Transformers doll equipped with pull-string dialogue. The lines include words about honor, fighting back, making someone pay, and an Autobot announcing who they are. It all feels clunky and grating and does not enhance any action or the excellent special effects. This includes almost every time Optimus Prime speaks. The script has developed a nasty habit of turning him into a false leader and demagogue. It’s noticeable that every time one of the Maximals comes up with a plan and shows genuine leadership, Prime jumps in and says, “And we take the fight to them!” as if he came up with the idea in the first place. There should be edited scenes showing the characters talking behind their back and complaining throughout the film.

While venting my frustrations, I must say that I do like the cast, which is primarily made up of diverse actors, including Ramos and Fishback, who has been a serious talent since breaking out on the scene in the independent film Night Comes On. While Transformers: Rise of the Beasts has a furious finish that almost saves the moviegoing experience, Bumblebee’s return after being absent for most of the runtime and the ending’s head-scratching tease is enjoyable. Caple’s update remains an empty promise with plenty of potential for future installments.

Grade: C-

Let’s Talk About Steve Jablonsky’s ‘Transformers’ Scores

First of all, as we begin, let me emphasize that I’m no music expert. I have no background in music. I can’t speak to any technicalities regarding chords, melodies, or music theory. I’m just someone who deeply loves musical scores from film and listens to them like it’s their job. If you’ve ever listened to the podcast, you’ll know that it’s something that I talk about regularly. So, with that in mind, it’s time we recognize Steve Jablonsky’s Transformers scores as some of the best we’ve heard from any major blockbuster in the last thirty years.

Perhaps they’re not widely talked about because Michael Bay’s Transformers are not highly touted in any way, shape, or form. They made a lot of money, sure, but not many are claiming them to be among the better franchises we’ve seen over the last 15 years. So it’s understandable that certain aspects of those films will be overlooked. However, I’m going to make my case for why Jablonsky has earned his spot among the top tier of blockbuster scores. And it all starts here with ‘Arrival to Earth’ from the first Transformers.

This piece of music is nothing short of excellent. It’s interesting too because, on its own, it doesn’t invoke anything Transformers. There’s nothing bombastic or urgent about it. In fact, it’s quite the opposite with its majestic and sublime qualities. The strings reverberate a feeling of imposing elegance, especially when accompanied by the chorus of angels behind them. As it crescendos it only gets better and better, with an elevated glimmer at the half-way mark, before letting the vocals take over for a moment. Then there’s the horns. Just pure bliss. It’s truly an evocative piece of music. Similarly the ‘Optimus’ and ‘Bumblebee’ tracks are distinguished by the same tones and heroic melodies.

However, on the flipside of that coin, tracks such as ‘Downtown Battle’ and ‘Soccent Attack’ offer up that loud bombast you’d expect from a movie like that. The horns are prominent and the Hans Zimmer-esque drums do much of the heavy lifting. These tracks aren’t anything transcendent, but are still effective and work seamlessly with Jablonsky’s main themes.

Which leads to my last point regarding Transformers, I love how ‘No Sacrifice, No Victory’ is kind of a meshing of the main theme and film’s more gaudy components.

Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen is easily the worst of the films on the whole, but Jablonsky and Lisbeth Scott do come ready to play. ‘Prime’ is foundational to the film and does a great job of invoking the same feelings of ‘Arrival to Earth’ while carrying a bit more urgency with the drums and pacing of this piece of music.

Then there’s ‘Nest’ – a track that truly separates itself from anything we heard in the first film. Again, I can’t speak to its nuances like a musician can, but its guitar riffs and pacing offers a fun energy. It then, of course, incorporates some of Linkin Park’s ‘New Divide’ into it as well. To me, this is one of the more defining pieces of music for the film.

However, I have to admit that my favorite track from this score is ‘Forest Battle’ for its sleight of hand. This is also something that is missing in a lot of action films these days. The building up of tensity (to accompany the action on screen) and then the release of the main theme. Again, this is a really bad movie, but the editing here and how the music is incorporated is quite great. Easily Bay at this best with this movie. As Optimus is taking on a few Decepticons, Jablonsky uses primarily drums (with some heavy strings) to give the moment some heft as the action is taking place. It’s nothing “amazing” per se, but I do like how different it is from anything else we’ve heard to this point. However; near the half-way point, we hear Optimus yell “I’ll take you all on” as he gears up for a fight, and Jablonsky brings the party.

As someone who grew up with Transformers, and now a massive film score nerd, this moment gives me chills. It’s easily the best moment of Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. The rest of the score is still very good. Shout-out to ‘Matrix of Leadership’ for its use of vocals and poignant qualities. Bay doesn’t utilize it well because of his storytelling, but the track itself is really great.

Okay, let’s move on to Transformers: Dark of the Moon, which is the best of the Bayformers. There are several great tracks, but the conversation begins and ends with ‘Battle’ – which is one of Jablonsky’s best pieces of music. For one, it’s distinctive from the previous two films, so it has its own identity in Dark of the Moon. Secondly, the structure of it is incredible to me. It starts off with an urgent, but somewhat subdued melody, that quickly picks up pace once the drums kick in at about the minute mark. Another 20 seconds later, however; those strings kick in and it goes to a whole new level of excitement. The gravity that it invokes renders this feeling of tenacity and adrenaline. As someone who plays beer league hockey, if I need to get amped up before a game, this is the track I play. You’re ready to go after listening to this.

I cannot get enough of that. I love how captivating and engaging that piece of music is, on its own and in context of the film. It’s just a lot of goddamn fun.

Another track to highlight is ‘It’s Our Fight’ – which is equally great. What I love about this piece is how methodical and nuanced it is. The first minute is slow and steady, but as it picks up pace, it simultaneously carries over that ‘Arrival to Earth’ gracefulness with its strings. Somehow it has both a gripping bite and gentle poise. That’s not a coincidence, though, because this is used when Optimus Prime is leading the charge in the Battle of Chicago as it begins to crystalize, and Optimus is a character known for his fighting prowess and his tender leadership. Jablosnky leans into that duality perfectly with this piece of music. There’s no denying the urgency of this track – which gives the action sequence a fun energy – but I do love how it never waivers from that balancing act.

In juxtapostion to the dramatic urgency of the score, Jablonsky brings a touching sorrow to the music with tracks such as ‘Sentinel Prime,’ ‘There is No Plan,’ and ‘The Fight Will Be Your Own.’ I love the somber qualities of ‘Sentinel Prime’ as they attempt to tap into why a leader of his ilk would succumb to fear. ‘There is No Plan’ has a nice slowed-down version of the main theme from the first Transformers. ‘The Fight Will Be Your Own’ is soft and wonderfully affecting. If you’re ever in a sad mood and need something to accompany that for you, it’s a great track to just have on in the background. Sometimes it does feel like the fight is our own.

The last track I wanted to note here is ‘Dark Side of the Moon’ – which plays in the film’s opening. I just love the fun energy of this track. For a film setting the stakes of its drama, and what Bay is trying to accomplish on screen, this music is flawless.

Transformers: Dark of the Moon is not exactly setting the world on fire when we’re discussing cinema and mainstream Hollywood films. It is, arguably anyway, the best of Bay’s attempts at the franchise, for whatever that’s worth. Either way, Jablonsky brings the heat. The urgency of this score, the emotion of it, the intensity of it at times, it’s all mesmerizing.

In 2014, we move away from the Shia LaBeouf-led movies and into the world of Mark Wahlberg. With this change, Jablonsky does reinvent himself a little bit here. The main theme, and the melodies surrounding it, are mostly gone in Transformers: Age of Extinction. Instead, we have a new ‘Autobots Reunite’ theme to replace it. And I gotta say, I quite love it. The strings evoke a little bit of that previous gracefulness, but this track is much more drum heavy. The big difference, though, are those *incredible* horns. Jablonsky’s emphasizes those French horns like never before, and it gives the film a feeling of “LFG” – especially when John Goodman’s Hound is shouting “Oh yeah! HELL YEAH! He’s back! He’s alive! OPTIMUS IS HERE!”

One of the more prominent themes of Age of Extinction is ‘Tessa.’ It features a touching piano motif that’s accompanied by a lovely vocal in the background. Regardless of what it means for the film, the music itself is exquisite and I love its tender rhythms. Bay comes to this piece of music often, and I don’t blame him.

‘Hunted’ is another fascinating piece to this score. It’s not verbatim, but the closes to anything Jablonsky did in Dark of the Moon with how it blends both a feeling of urgency with opulence. At least for the first half of the track. Because there’s a subtle, but dramatic shift, as those guitar rifts and drums pick up the pace and things become much more grave in tone. Then, with about a minute and half left, Jablonsky hits us with a heavy dose of drums and guitar riffs. And it goes so f***ing hard.

The best track in Age of Extinction is ‘Lockdown.’ Now, I’m not saying this should be in the echelon of the Darth Vader’s of the world, but as far as baddie themes go, it’s one of the best of the century so far. I absolutely love it. There’s something so simple, yet powerful about it. A compelling drum rhythm and modest keyboard (which seamlessly transitions to strings halfway through) progression that evokes intimidation and dominance. If Bay had a made a great film (I know, I know), this wouldn’t take much convincing on my part. This is incredible work.

Finally, there’s Transformers: The Last Knight. I understand why may claim Revenge of the Fallen to be the worst of them, and it may be, but The Last Knight is just so forgettable. Michael Bay had clearly checked out by this point. Thankfully, Jablonsky didn’t. By this point, we’re five films into the franchise and yet he’s still putting out bangers like ‘Purity of Heart’ – a string-heavy track that’s so luscious and ethereal. It’s honestly one of the best tracks in all of these movies.

Same thing can be said about ‘Seglass Ni Tonday’ – a fascinating cue that’s reminiscent of ‘Purity of Heart’ before it transitions in the last two minutes to a faster pace and engrossing string progression.

On the whole, the score for Transformers: The Last Knight is slightly lesser than Transformers, Transformers: Dark of the Moon and Transformers: Age of Extinction, but it’s much, much, much better than the film itself. And I love how Jablonsky circles back to his roots with one of the last tracks, ‘Calling All Autobots,’ a track that recycles the main theme and melodies from the first film. Which is fitting given that this is where his relationship with the franchise ended.

As I noted at the beginning of this, I’m not a music expert. I don’t know the jargon. All I know is I listen to film scores all day, every day, and these scores rule. So maybe I didn’t convince you with my simpleton explanations. But give these scores a listen outside of their films. If you can stomach a re-watch, go back and see how incredible they are in context as well. They are easily one of the best things about those movies. Maybe *the* best thing about them. They are genuinely phenomenal pieces of music and belong in the upper tier of blockbuster scores. I’ve been waiting 10-years+ to say those words on this website. It was cathartic. It was joyful.

In The Name Of Desire: The Very Stupid Sex Scene Discourse

Not long ago, Film Twitter, a place that reeks of sensitivity when it comes to criticism, got up in arms about the place of nudity and sex scenes in movies. While it’s of the minority that sex and nudity are unnecessary and morally wrong, just how Film Twitter reacted so aggressively to that take is an example of how tiring this mob-like mentality is really crushing on the soul and the mind. I use it for my work and to connect with others, and whatever Elon Muskrat has planned, I’m not leaving the site – yet. But, man, the hive of loving (or “Stanning”) or hating a thing is pathetic. 

Now, the exposure of breasts, buttocks, and genitalia has been around for over a hundred years in cinema. The silent film Hypocrites featured a nude woman in the context of religion, yet just seeing a nude woman was met with riots. Under the influence of the Catholic Legion of Decency and the Hays Code, there was no nudity shown in Hollywood films until the 1960s. European films were more tolerant and allowed nudity to go mainstream in the 1950s. Ingmar Bergman’s Summer With Monika, Roger Vadim’s And God Created Woman, and Jean-Pierre Melville’s Bob le Flambeur had moments of nudity, but nothing overtly explicit. 

As the walls of censorship were falling, it was becoming easier to now depict sex with groaning, thrusting, and now male nudity being added. It was the 1970s and sexual liberation was all over and the only one complaining was the conservatives who were calling foul in the name of indecency. But Pandora’s Box was open and it could not be contained anymore in Western countries. Cut to the era of #MeToo and the waterfall of scandals involving couch casting and other demands of sexual humiliation, there is an awareness that actors don’t have to do nude scenes. The “intimacy coordinator” was created to show how a love scene is done properly and get any actor comfortable. 

It is from this a puritanical sense of cleanliness from critics, bloggers, and trolls has come to discuss whether or not it’s fine to have a love scene. Some say watching it is uncomfortable and others believe the actors are being exploited when they do it. Actors have no-nudity clauses in their contracts, so camera angles cut off actors exposing themselves and body doubles in place of the actor when it comes to the nude scene. What was criticism mainly from conservatives over sex and nudity has now shifted over to, shall I say, politically correct liberals who act overzealously in the name of “protecting” women from abuse and think any of it desecrates women and the whole movie.

Sex scenes, if done tastefully and within the nature of the story, can absolutely be part of the movie. The porn industry is the setting of Boogie Nights, Las Vegas nude dancers as part of Showgirls, and the expression of a passionate affair in Blue Is The Warmest Color. Even in isolated scenes – the literal first scene of Before The Devil Knows You’re Dead between Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Maris Tomei – sex is okay in portraying. Even in the era of erotic dramas, where in the 1980s and 90s there were films (good or bad) with steamy romance and raunchy sexuality, it was all beautiful and memorable and no one got hurt making it. This is part of the freedom of expression and the anti-sex discourse is guilty of promoting a form of censorship. 

Much like book banning or prohibiting certain subjects being taught in schools (I live in Florida), the idea of suppressing sex from the screen goes against the idea of free speech. Gay sexuality, trans sexuality, whatever the case, it should be done with total freedom. That’s what made Pier Paolo Pasolini a renegade with his films going into taboo subjects, straight and gay, and showing plenty of skin from everyone. People who’ve come to support the sex scene cited Don’t Look Now and the graphic sequence between Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland. Or, Jane Campion’s The Piano. Or, the first NC-17-rated film, Philip Kaufman’s Henry & June. You could even include half of Pedro Almodovar’s films with his uncompromising moments like in Matador, Tie Me Up! Tie Me Down!, and Bad Education. 

I thought of the controversy over the music video to George Michael’s “I Want Your Sex,” which seems very tame today. Also, the lyrics to it are very tame. Prince’s lyrics to a number of songs are quite obviously filthy. Any controversy today? Let’s not confuse sex scenes with rape scenes or scenes depicting violence toward women. It isn’t shocking as I Spit On Your Grave, Dressed To Kill, Gutterballs, or Irreversible, any part of the exploitative rape-and-revenge genre. We are more aware of certain scenes and how nudity is shown and it is done with care and with taste. The velvet curtain is open and cannot be closed again.

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Op-Ed: The Marvel Empire Will Fall

I swore off the Marvel Cinematic Universe after Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. It’s not because I had a strong negative reaction to the film. It’s because I didn’t have any strong feelings at all. I remember seeing the trailer and getting misty eyed, as well as excited, to see Namor, one of my favorite Marvel characters, finally make his way to the screen. I had thought this one could erase the bad taste in my mouth from Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and Thor: Love and Thunder. Then Julia Louis-Dreyfus, typically a welcome sight, showed up to be a distraction, then Namor said the word “mutant” in a meaningful way, then they introduced Riri Williams/Ironheart, and I realized that this story, no matter how personal it was meant to be, has to serve the Mighty Marvel Machine.

They all have, really. When Nick Fury shows up in the stinger for Iron Man, the whirring in the brains of comic book fans started. Then, when Tony Stark was in the stinger for The Incredible Hulk, the only question was if they really were doing what we thought they were doing. Could they do what their source material has been doing for decades? They’d have to fight straining actor egos, ballooning budgets, and finding a grounded, human story amongst the grand ideas that the comics art form presents. They’d have to entice “jocks” and other people unversed in comics lore to make these films profitable. The MCU was a tremendous gamble.

That gamble paid off, with a tremendous amount of interest. They, at what is now Marvel Studios, built a cinematic universe unlike anything that has come before it. All the films serve the grand design in some way and build toward an eventual climax that seemingly will never come.

It would have been a staggering achievement on its own just to make it to the first Avengers film. Yet, they did it, then they did it three more times with much larger casts and grander story ambitions. In its first eleven years, Marvel Studios churned out 23 films, three adjacent network television shows, three not quite, but sort of linked, cable television shows, and six adult focused streaming shows. You could kind of ignore the shows, but they had interesting filler elements and character introductions. It was already a behemoth, then it exploded.

The year 2020 was a breather, a blip, but 2021 was everything, everywhere, and all at once. Four theatrical releases coupled with five television shows, all of which are important to the larger story, all of which had their own clues toward the newest and biggest saga. Last year, 2022, was slightly less daunting with three theatrical releases and three television series, though they all hinted at the avalanche headed straight for us, the cascading pile of continuity as this colossal undertaking enters its fifteenth year.

A friend of mine remarked when I asked what she thought of the MCU that she prefers films that don’t require a ton of homework in order to understand the basic plot. I laughed then, but I see her point. As this franchise continues and they shoehorn in large ideas in order to bring in, or in the case of Blade, Daredevil, Deadpool, the Fantastic Four, and X-Men, reform the legacies of the major characters that exist in a large way in the comics universe, Marvel Studios will undoubtedly bury themselves in a continuity cacophony.

Admittedly, Marvel Studios’ third iteration of Spider-Man did much better than anyone could have anticipated. So it could be that third time’s the charm for the X-Men and Fantastic Four (technically fourth for the FF if you count Roger Corman’s unreleased copyright cash grab of the ’90s). Their brand synergy and bottomless piggy banks have already tied the two previous actors who embodied the role of Spider-Man into a grand multiversal mythos in Spider-Man: No Way Home. Several legacy villainous turns also got in on the action as well as a teaser for the ubiquitous goo, Venom. Then, several other legacy actors made appearances in WandaVision and Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness.

It’s all fine and good to play with comics concepts in order to unite the franchises under one roof and yank mercilessly at the yoke of nostalgia. In the age of legacy sequels it’s almost expected. They play off the media dominance of their parent company with a distraction, a, “hey, look at all the characters you love that we get to play with now!” Yet, it’s so bloated and hollow. They’re realizing this grand concept of comics that not only is Earth not the lone inhabited world in the cosmos, but that this particular Earth is one Earth of endless Earths. It’s a great comics concept and works so well in that medium, but all Marvel Studios seems to want to use it for is brand synergy. It’s not the first time they’ve tinkered with something from the comics to make their films more appealing.

It starts with the little things. Infinity Gems get the more masculine moniker Infinity Stones. Peter Parker is handed the technology to be Spider-Man rather than painstakingly developing it himself. Tony Stark and Stephen Strange have nearly identical egos and personalities because a contract is about to expire and the universe needs an intelligent smartass. Usurping the final Captain America solo film into Avengers 2.5 to shoehorn in a popular comics plot as well as to introduce new characters before the next big Avengers film.

Then it’s the radical shifts. The Thor solo films start out as pseudo-Shakespearean dramas with Thor being more brawn than brain, but overwrought with deep feelings. Then the character shifts, hard, into the himbo clown, piggybacking off the success of fellow cosmic characters, the Guardians of the Galaxy. His ancient wisdom usurped by silliness and his deep mythos mined for, “Isn’t this so dumb, but I guess we have to put it in here,” punchlines. Scarlet Witch’s depth of character development in the WandaVision series, tossed aside for her ridiculous heel turn in Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness. Adam Warlock, prime character of the comics Infinity Saga and all around Infinity (Stone) Gem expert, is sidelined from that adventure to become a complete idiot in Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3. It makes me dread what’s to come when they actually dig into characters I care about.

The X-Men films of 20 years ago are nowhere near perfect. They have bits of perfection within them like Wolverine’s mentorship of a young woman, Nightcrawler’s look, and Brian Cox’s William Stryker. Yet, these things are not outweighing the fact that Storm, Cyclops, and Jean Grey are barely a blip of their comics persona, or that two of the most incredibly complex female characters, Emma Frost and Mystique (in the first trilogy), are utterly reduced to sexual objects, and that twice 20th Century Fox failed to make an intriguing screen adaptation of the quintessential X-Men story, the Dark Phoenix saga.

This really isn’t a fear of mine that they won’t get everything “right,” this is a fear that they will ignore the spirit the source material presents. It’s difficult, though, when an idea or a group of characters has been around for 60 years, as there is a lot of ground to cover. The minutiae is hard to coherently describe within the context of a film. 

Take the prime example of Cable. He shows up in Deadpool 2 as a mutant from the future out to get revenge for the death of his family and to fix his dark future. Fixing a dark future is a very common X-Men trope. This was fine in the context of the film. The moviegoers for the wacky world of Deadpool don’t need to know that Cable is actually the son of Cyclops and a clone of Jean Grey, the Goblin Queen, Madelyne Pryor. They don’t need to know baby Cable was sent into the future because they could cure the techno-organic virus he was infected with by the villain Apocalypse. They don’t need to know he returned to the present as a grizzled, battle hardened older man in order to battle Apocalypse and prevent his rise to power. They don’t need to know that that is the cleanest, least confusing reason Cable traveled to the past. This kind of backstory is built over decades and required the brains of multiple writers over multiple titles picking up or sewing in loose threads where they could. This is not how the MCU films operate.

The MCU may, in the case of the X-Men, and X-Men adjacent Deadpool, eschew a full origin story. There willlikely be some silly reason Deadpool shows up in the MCU. For either the X-Men or the Fantastic Four they will at least have an introductory phase where the slate is cleaned and the new normal is established. They will take only bits and pieces to craft these characters so they fit in this world, but only just so they fit, not so they thrive on their own.

Marvel Studios doesn’t make movies that stand on their own anymore. If the reception of Thor: Love and Thunder or Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness are any indication, Marvel Studios needs to realize that people are enjoying the small connectivity, but don’t need every film to be a “key” film. It’s much more fun if things are peppered into a story like they used to do rather than just trying to get people excited for the next movie, show, or special. Let us, the audience, find those key details later like comics collectors do when they realize how important a briefly introduced character will be later, maybe even years later. Just look at the cast list for Captain America: New World Order coming in 2024 and you’ll see a handful of cast members and characters from The Incredible Hulk reappearing there. Though this proves that Marvel Studios has no real interest in Captain America solo stories, even with a new character taking on the moniker of Captain America.

Essentially, Marvel Studios has always been on a bit of uneven ground. The MCU came on subtly and warily with its introduction being a cool nerd who has sex and a monster that smashes stuff. They built an empire, but empires eventually fall and fifteen years is a very long run. We’ll see how people feel after the long break between the just released Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3 and the corporate synergy of The Marvels in November. Can two TV show characters and a divisive version of a beloved character truly mix well? We’ll just have to wait and see, but my money’s on the empire waning before it reaches a grand conclusion or even its next climax. The Mighty Marvel Machine won’t just grind to a halt, but will collapse in a heap of its own hubris.

Movie Review: ‘Spider-Man: Across The Spider-Verse’ Continues to Change The Game


Directors: Joaquim Dos Santos, Kemp Powers, and Justin K. Thompson
Writers: Phil Lord, Christopher Miller, and Dave Callaham
Stars: Shameik Moore, Hailee Steinfeld, Brian Tyree Henry

Synopsis: Miles Morales catapults across the Multiverse, where he encounters a team of Spider-People charged with protecting its very existence. When the heroes clash on how to handle a new threat, Miles must redefine what it means to be a hero.


If you randomly ask anyone worldwide to name any superhero, Spider-Man would likely be one of the most common replies. The character’s popularity – primarily the Peter Parker iteration – is astronomical. Since the turn of the millennium, there have been 9 Spider-Man films, and the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU) version has featured an extra three times on top of his solo trilogy. Not to mention, the character has made multiple appearances in other forms of media such as video games and television projects. One of the reasons his popularity has been so mainstream, and the reason creator Stan Lee fought so hard to make the character, was because of his relatability of being a normal kid with everyday struggles. He wasn’t rich and he wasn’t popular, he was every anxious and scared kid who thought battling superpowered villains was easier than going to school, but deep down wants to help the people who couldn’t help themselves. 

To spread this message to a broader audience, Spider-Man became an alias for more than just   one individual, it evolved into a moniker for a group of some of the most diverse and unique superheroes that have ever existed. This has been something the comics have delved into but until 2018’s surprise masterpiece, Into the Spider-Verse, films hadn’t touched on any Spider-Person other than the original Peter Parker. That changed when Into the Spider-Verse had their main character as one of the more recent additions to the Spider-Man lore, Miles Morales (Shameik Moore). The film also included the well-known Peter B. Parker (Jake Johnson), but also other lesser-known Spider-People such as Spider-Gwen (Hailee Steinfeld), Spider-Man Noir (Nicholas Cage), Penny Parker (Kimiko Glenn), and Spider-Ham (John Mulaney as a talking pig with Spider-Man powers). With this film, Spider-Man as an idea grew past what anyone in the mainstream ever realized, and with the sequel Across the Spider-Verse, it gets even larger.

Across the Spider-Verse opens with a drumming Gwen Stacey talking through how hard it is to be the only Spider-Person in her universe – a situation that is even harder now knowing there are people in other universes who can understand her. She heads to the local art gallery after hearing reports of an attack from The Vulture (Jorma Taccone), however, when she sees this Vulture she notices something off about him – he isn’t from her universe. During their fight, Miguel O’Hara (Oscar Isaac) and Jessica Drew (Issa Rae), two other spider-people, appear to help Gwen and return the out-of-place Vulture to his original timeline.

Meanwhile, back in Miles Morales’s universe, a new villain is attempting to rob an ATM at a local shop. This villain, Spot (Jason Schwartzman), is covered in spots that let him open portals to different places. During a fight with Miles, Spot explains to him how he was created and the role that they both took in each other’s creation. Spot escapes Miles and figures out a way to traverse dimensions so he can grow more powerful. Gwen and other members of the “Spider-Society” (a group of spider-people created by Miguel O’Hara tasked with stopping anomalies among timelines) must find a way to stop Spot, while Miles is forced to reconcile with the role he must play in everything.

Into the Spider-Verse is, and always will be a crowning achievement in cinema. It didn’t just change the way an animated film could be told, or viewed, it completely shattered the very fabric and understanding of what an animated film is. Across the Spider-Verse could have mainly followed in the footsteps of its predecessor and still have been a better movie, animated or not, than most over the past few years. Luckily for us, the minds and massive team of around 1000 animators didn’t want to take the easy path, no, they once again absolutely shattered how a film can be told through animation. So much so that Across the Spider-Verse almost transcends being just a film, it’s pure art.

From the beginning drum solo, which features only a small section of Daniel Pemberton’s miraculous score, the frenetic animation pulls the audience in giving only clues of what is about to come. Blending together what seems to be every animation style known to man with a massive cast of almost every version of Spider-Man there has ever been expands on the idea of what film can truly be. The action sequences are created with such ferocity to raise the heart rates of the viewers, but the emotional beats are displayed with enough pathos that feels palpable at any given moment. It’s an enthralling work that, even though it very much exists, still feels imaginary.

The mesmerizing visual style isn’t the only thing this film has going for it, as the characters and the emotions are explored even more in this sequel. The scared kid who had his life change overnight is growing up, and now a year older, Miles’s confidence has grown with it. Gone are the days where he is scared to even use his powers as now his focus is to become a part of something bigger. However, as he finds out, not everything he wants is as great as it seems. If his journey in the first film was to learn to trust himself, his journey here is to become his own person. Not just Miles, but Gwen as well, have to learn that if they want to tell their own story, they have to take control of their own lives. Its emotion, while sad at times, isn’t rooted in sorrow, but displayed in these characters learning to command themselves and carve out their own paths within a myriad of universes.

Across the Spider-Verse is, like the first of this soon-to-be trilogy, a masterpiece. An animation spectacle that doesn’t just redefine what it means to be an animated film – something Into the Spider-Verse did itself – it redefines filmmaking as a whole while always still keeping the emotional beats and characters at the focus. A stellar score and soundtrack as well as a voice cast constantly giving their all make this not just one of the best films of the year, but one of the best ever, and is now two-thirds away from being one of the best trilogies in cinema history.

Grade: A+

Chasing the Gold: Five Oscar Categories ‘Past Lives’ May Compete In Next Year

One of the first major Oscar contenders of 2023 is Past Lives, opening in theaters on June 2. Celine Song’s debut film tells the story of Nora (Greta Lee) and Hae Sung (Teo Yoo), who meet in childhood but then are pulled apart when Nora’s family emigrates from South Korea. Twenty years later, they reunite and find out what could’ve been in their relationship. 

The romance drama, which brings to mind Richard Linklater’s Before trilogy in the way it deals with the passage of time between two people who share a deep connection, was my favorite title at the Sundance Film Festival in January. Past Lives will likely be my favorite movie for all of 2023, its beautiful storytelling and powerful performance still haunting me months later. I’m excited for more people to discover it, and I can’t wait to see what kind of impact it will have on the next awards season.

A few potential Oscar contenders have been released so far this year, namely Ben Affleck’s drama Air from April, but Past Lives is going to be the first major 2023 release that has the potential to get into major categories at the Academy Awards next year. What are the most likely categories I see Past Lives getting into at the Oscars? Here are five of them… 

1. Best Picture

With ten nominees for Best Picture, you can guarantee that Past Lives will make it into the top category. The A24 release is close to 100% on Rotten Tomatoes and has been getting raves from critics and audiences since its Sundance premiere many months ago. It’s the kind of deeply emotional story that is going to work its magic on awards voters, and I can see it winning Best Picture from some of the major critic groups at the end of the year. Even if it underperforms on Oscar nominations morning in some of the other categories, I can’t imagine it missing in Best Picture. It’s one of the most affecting films I’ve seen in the last five years, and awards voters are going to feel the same way.  

2. Best Actress

The other Oscar nomination I believe with my whole heart will happen is Best Actress for Greta Lee, who is astounding in the role of Nora. A lot of the performance is internal, which might not scream awards to some, but she has a specifically heartbreaking moment at the end, a major cathartic release for her character and for the audience, that will make Lee a major contender for Best Actress. She gives Nora strength and confidence, but also a raw delicateness, her scenes with Teo Yoo as Hae Sung filled with so many complex emotions. She was excellent in Russian Doll and the second season of The Morning Show, but her role in Past Lives is her breakthrough. Look for Lee to make it into the Best Actress final five at next year’s Oscars.

3. Best Original Screenplay

If Past Lives gets into Best Picture and Best Actress at the 96th Academy Awards as I predict, there’s no way it’s missing a nod in Best Original Screenplay. It’s not a showy movie, it’s talky, it’s quiet, it’s not reinventing the wheel, and thus some voters might not put the film’s original screenplay at the top of their minds. However, the three-act structure implemented by writer-director Celine Song is gorgeously orchestrated; those moments early on with Nora and Hae Sung in childhood having incredibly effective payoffs at the narrative’s end. Past Lives not getting into Best Original Screenplay would be shocking, especially if it makes it into Best Picture. 

4. Best Supporting Actor

Another performance awards voters are likely going to respond to is John Magaro as Nora’s husband Arthur. The two characters meet and fall in love, and then the way he deals with Hae Sung’s re-entry into Nora’s life is complicated and feels so real moment to moment. He also gives the film some welcome humor and levity, especially toward the end when the emotional stakes couldn’t be higher. Magaro has been consistently excellent throughout the years in Carol, The Big Short, First Cow, and The Many Saints of Newark. Outside of First Cow, Magaro really hasn’t received many nominations from critics or awards bodies, but that I imagine is going to change for his nuanced turn in Past Lives

5. Best Film Editing

A contemporary drama like Past Lives isn’t going to show up in categories at next year’s Oscars like Costume Design or Production Design, but one technical category I can see it getting into is Film Editing. It doesn’t have flashy editing you always notice, but Academy voters will likely respond to the way the editor Keith Fraase so masterfully plays with passage of time, always keeping the narrative at a steady pace that works wonders for those powerful final scenes. There’s also one incredible cut at the end that, sadly, the trailer has already spoiled, but wow, in the moment, it’s a punch to the gut. 

I would also love to see Past Lives get into Best Director for Celine Song, remarkably making her directing debut here, and Teo Yoo for Best Actor, but as of now, the most likely categories we may see the film in next year are Best Original Screenplay, Best Actress, and Best Picture. I’m not sure if the A24 release will turn into a runaway box office sensation and awards juggernaut like their 2022 title Everything Everywhere All at Once turned out to be, but I have hope, and I’ll be championing the magnificent Past Lives every step of the way. 

Movie Review: ‘The Boogeyman’ is Nearly One Big Cliché


Director: Rob Savage

Writers: Scott Beck, Bryan Woods, and Mark Heyman

Stars: Sophie Thatcher, Chris Messina, Vivien Lyra Blair

Synopsis: High school student Sadie Harper and her younger sister, Sawyer, are still reeling from the recent death of their mother. They’re not getting much support from their father, Will, a therapist who’s dealing with his own intense pain. When a desperate patient unexpectedly shows up at their house seeking help, he leaves behind a terrifying supernatural entity that preys on families and feeds on the suffering of its victims.


Everything that master horror author Stephen King, who has created classic tales like Carrie, The Shining, and Pet Sematary, doesn’t turn into gold. And although I really respect his constant drive for creating horror stories decade through decade, there have been plenty of lackluster ones. An example is the short story included in King’s 1978 ‘Night Shift’ collection, The Boogeyman. The acclaimed genre auteur’s name isn’t enough to excite me to watch a feature anymore. You need a talented director who has their own voice and can translate that story from the pages onto the big screen successfully. I believed Rob Savage was once that director that could bring enough horrific pizzazz onto a project and make it its own, even if it’s an adaptation, because of his hit debut Host, which startled many horror cinema lovers during the pandemic. Unfortunately, the British filmmaker makes a highly disappointing feature that dwells in every genre trope imaginable, making it a tough watch due to its dullness. 

The Boogeyman centers around a sixteen-year-old girl named Sadie (Sophie Thatcher) and her ten-year-old sister, Sawyer (Vivien Lyra Blair), who are struggling to connect and move forward in the wake of their mother’s brutal passing. Their therapist father, Will Harper (Chris Messina), seems to be so isolated emotionally that he’s distant, not only to his patients, but also to his two daughters. After introducing these characters, a cheesy high school bully scene follows, inducing plenty of eye rolls. The dialogue feels that it was generated by an A.I. of some sort. Nonetheless, Sophie heads home after an altercation with the mean girl in the locker near her. And that’s when a strange man, Lester Billings (David Dastmalchian), knocks on Will’s door, asking him to understand his pain and the belief of a dark entity haunting his daily life. Haunted by the entity that personifies his grief and depression, Lester kills himself at the Harper house, paving the way for the creature to lurk in their hallways. 

Putting all of the cliches aside, the narrative is intriguing enough for the audience to put their attention into. Everything might not be sharply put together until this point, yet you go with it to see where it might lead. Unfortunately, it doesn’t go anywhere interesting. The biggest problem of them all is that The Boogeyman is, in all of its aspects , average and harmless – never having a unique identity of its own and choosing to go down a route that doesn’t deliver an emotional payoff. I heavily disliked Rob Savage’s previous feature, Dashcam. But, I’d prefer him to go broader into shlock-like horror cinema – with buckets of blood being spilled, people throwing up, foul-mouthed characters, and some experimental direction – because, in those films, he can express himself better as a filmmaker. Unfortunately, in these studio films, Savage is restrained from demonstrating his talents because he has to curate a film that targets the Stranger Things audience. 

With The Boogeyman, Savage presents us with one of the most bland and uninspired horror narratives this year. Not even the titular creature has a great design; it feels like a copy of a Demogordon, albeit without the flower-like head and with a more hound look to it. Some of the same problems I had with Scott Derickson’s The Black Phone, targeted to the same audience as this one, are repeated here. Both films frustratingly rely on the precise Stephen King horror tropes to the point where they are rendered indistinguishable and hollow. This is an issue because you can’t shake the feeling that we have seen this type of film before, and has been done better by filmmakers that make twists to the narrative or, at the very least, develop a unique directorial language to tell a commonly seen tale about the effects of grief and trauma, which seems to be the central theme in most recent big studio horror pictures. 

There are a few instances in which you see Rob Savage trying to breathe life into the film with some flashy lighting and using shadowplay. In those moments, you notice Savage’s gift of providing good scares. Yet, those moments are forgotten by the time the end credits arrive. The performances carry the emotional weight and heart that The Boogeyman has on its sleeve, particularly the leading girl Sophie Thatcher, Chris Messina, and the always fascinating (but ultimately wasted) Marin Ireland. Both Thatcher and Messina portray the drowning sensation grief puts onto you in a way that makes you believe in their pain. The former has several moments where she can express her desire for her mother to return with her facial expressions rather than by dialogue. Ireland has the most superficial role in the film compared with the two aforementioned actors. But she’s so engaging to watch, no matter the role, that you are excited to see her, even if it is for less than five minutes. 

Nevertheless, the cast can only go as far as the screenplay, rapidly filling in the tension and risk-less blanks. It sometimes feels as if Savage and his team of screenwriters barely want to create an inventive story. Every narrative beat has been seen before multiple times; cliches and tropes of teen-oriented horror pictures are at the forefront – the unnecessarily mean bully (whom Sadie slaps at one point in the movie and people cheered for some reason), the “you never listen to me” line and a literal fiery climax. You can see everything coming from a mile away. And since the direction is uninspired, the viewer doesn’t want to engage with what’s happening. Even when the actors have shared the respective ways they prepared for the role and to connect with them more, Thatcher created a playlist that resembles the feeling of a grief-hardened heart, every cinematic element in The Boogeyman seemed that there wasn’t any care or thought put into it. I have wanted to cheer Rob Savage’s career on since he made one of the very first highly effective pandemic horror films with Host. But, his latter works have made me hopeless to see him in top form again. 

Grade: D

Movie Review: ‘Past Lives’ Offers No Easy Answers


Director: Celine Song

Writer: Celine Song

Stars: Greta Lee, Teo Yoo, John Magaro

Synopsis: Nora and Hae Sung, two deeply connected childhood friends, are wrest apart after Nora’s family emigrates from South Korea. 20 years later, they are reunited for one fateful week as they confront notions of love and destiny.


As humans, we’re only trying to do our best with what we’re given. Choices we make and the people who become a part of our short lives only happen through circumstance, chance, and ultimately, fate. Throughout, people will come and go and love will be had and lost, but the one thing you can never force in this world is fate.

Past Lives starts with our three characters, Nora (Greta Lee), Arthur (John Magaro), and Hae Sung (Teo Yoo) conversing at a bar while onlookers try to guess what their relation to one another is. Without delay, it jumps 24 years into the past to see a younger Nora (then Na Young) and her best friend, a younger Hae Sung. From a young age, the connection the two share is obvious and feels even more than friendship. However, when Na Young has to immigrate with her parents from Seoul to Canada, the bond they share becomes simply a memory.

Fast forward 12 years, and the two reconnect in their 20s after Hae Sung attempts to find Na Young, now Nora, through Facebook. She sees his attempts and reaches out to him looking to rekindle the dying flame. Through emails and plenty of Skype calls back and forth, they pick up as if they had never lost one another and their romance blossoms even more. That is until Nora, heartbreakingly, has to end it between them to focus on her current life, and not dwell in the past. After they end communication, she meets Arthur at a writer’s retreat over the Summer. The bond they share isn’t as quick, or as natural, as the one that is shared between Nora and Hae Sung, but it’s real.

12 years later, Nora and Arthur are now married and living in New York together, and Hae Sung is about to make a trip to see her in person for the first time in 24 years. From the first look shared between them, there is a feeling that is natural yet distant. The quiet walks and time shared feel like everything that should make for a pretty fantastic romance story, but, as shown throughout the film, not all romance is physical, and not all love is acted upon.

In her debut, writer/director Celine Song takes the quiet side of love and fate and creates something full of vibrancy. Her script is subtle, weaving in Nora and Hae Sung’s connections with poignancy, leaving some of the best moments left unsaid rather than spoken. Past Lives revolves heavily around the Korean/Buddhist term “In-Yun.” As explained in the film, this is an all-encompassing term that references fate or the ties two strangers share throughout their many lives. Sometimes the ties two people share bring them together in a way that is explored in their current life, and sometimes two people can feel so right for each other, but it just isn’t their time yet.

The love between Nora and Hae Sung is there, it is evident in every moment and the glances they share, but sometimes fate just gets in the way. While Song’s script beautifully articulates this notion, it’s her directing that truly shines. Her majestic sense of framing continuously shows how these two are so close to being perfect for one another, but there is constant space between them. Coming from a theater background makes sense given how well she positions her characters to tell a story visually rather than verbally. It might, at times, feel too precise, but it never once feels dull.

Bringing to life this vision are three performances worthy of awards consideration. Greta Lee, John Magaro, and Teo Yoo all find their place in this film. Magaro and Yoo, each playing a different half of Nora’s love. For Yoo, he is the theoretical love, someone who feels comforting to her in a fantastical way. While Magaro is the practical love, the person who is there and is present and makes sense. Each of these men wants what the other person has, and both of them effectively display the struggle that goes on with trying to be the right person for her. However, it’s Greta Lee’s transcendent performance that shines above the rest. Torn in two directions, it’s Lee who constantly has to make the impossible choice. Does she follow her heart or does she listen to fate? It’s a complex decision, especially in her case, in which one half feels right while the other half is right, and a choice is made near the end that is genuinely heartbreaking.


That’s because there are no right answers; no matter the choice made, someone will be hurt. Past Lives tells the story of the “right person, wrong time” in a gorgeously subtle way. Even if it can be too subtle at times, Song’s writing and directing help display a longingness of wanting to be the perfect person for someone, but fate makes other plans. The trio of actors all give stellar performances but it’s Greta Lee who should be remembered throughout the year. One of the most brutally honest love stories in quite some time.

Grade: B+

Criterion Releases: June 2023

Into the summer we go and here comes the next batch from Criterion. Two films are re-editions, two join the club, and a film director gets a very special box set a lot like his fellow countryman, Federico Fellini. While the re-releases are a 1930s French masterpiece and an eye-popping adventure from a Monty Python member, the two newcomers are a psychosexual drama from Britain’s New Wave and the debut film from an American modernist who stands as one of the best directors of today.

 

The Rules Of The Game (1939)

One of two re-releases for 4K also comes with a new cover, and I have to say, it speaks out on the era it is from and the formality in which it presents itself. Except, this film is no formality. It is a comedy of manners and it zings the bourgeois heavily, exposing the French upper class as rotten that call out their hypocrisies. For Jean Renoir, who directed and co-starred in this satirical devil of a story, it also looks back on his upbringing as the son of a famous artist and how much he despised the elite he once was part of. Banned and cut, its incredible restoration after the Second World War brings us what Renoir had originally served to unsuspecting viewers.

 

The Servant (1963)

Legendary writer Harold Pinter scripted this story of class structure through a psychological prism as Dirk Bogarde plays a new servant for a wealthy family. Soon, he becomes a tool in the family’s personal relationships and even gets to switch roles. The upper-class family being stripped down to unabashed power is disorienting and creates the social monster from its Victorian roots in a decade where such family values fall like dominoes. It was a great vehicle for director Joseph Losey who had been blacklisted from Hollywood and allowed him to instill his leftist views in the story. 

 

Time Bandits (1981)

The second re-release for 4K is from Terry Gilliam and his magical fantasy tale that cemented his solo directorial skills. With his fellow Monty Python players John Cleese and Michael Palin, Gillam’s creativity went wild in this adventure of a boy and a group of thieves who go through periods of history. Sean Connery, Shelly Duvall, Ian Holm, David Rappaport, Kenny Baker, and Sir Ian Richardson are part of an ensemble that plays along the journey with impressive animation and special effects that fully encapsulated Gilliam’s visions for his future works.

 

Medicine For Melancholy (2008)

Barry Jenkins showcased his talent with this romantic drama of two people (Wyatt Cenac and Tracey Heggins) who have an affair and spend the day together through Bohemian San Francisco. The story focuses on the identity of Blackness and their social gentrification in a community that is mostly White and how the two see things differently. It is an inner look of being Black, very much like Moonlight and If Beale Street Could Talk, and maximizes the use of shooting on video (with a budget of $15,000) that was a first look at how artistic Jenkins could get with any story anywhere. 

 

Pasolini 101

I wrote an article about this controversial figure last year, who was unlike anyone that had sat in the director’s chair before or since. He was flagrant with purpose and his films of the 1960s told the world what he was about. Pasolini’s films focused on the poor, such as the plight of prostitutes, sex amongst the hierarchy, and the religious quality of life, which is ironic because he was an atheist. But, he was also about attacking Italy’s embedment with capitalism and consumerism, especially by referencing the country’s past with fascism.

Nine films from the decade are now in one box, from his debut Accattone to his Greek tragedy Madea. The lifelong Communist was not afraid of angering the establishment and his films were always under attack by conservatives as immoral. This group of films spat in the face of the elite (and his final film, Salo, got him killed for it) to pick apart the hypocrisies he saw, and the injustices, and Pasolini turned them inside out to show how corrupt it all was. 

 

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review: ‘The Machine’ Won’t Be As Memorable as the Viral Video


Director: Peter Atencio

Writers: Kevin Biegel and Scotty Landes

Stars: Bert Kreischer, Mark Hamill, Jimmy Tatro

Synopsis: Bert’s drunken past catches up with him 20 years down the road when he and his father are kidnapped by those Bert wronged 20 years ago while drunk on a college semester abroad in Russia.


Something that catches the short attention span of humans in the 21st century will likely be forgotten by the majority of us about an hour after we see it. We’ll see it again when someone shows it to us and we’ll agree with them that it’s a very funny thing. After about five or so viewings, it loses the spark. After a month, it’s likely gone. Then it’s three or four years later and there’s a movie adaptation because a producer saw the story potential and needed the rights to it, but film production is glacial compared to the internet. so It’s far too late. The moment has passed. So, here’s The Machine, a film that expands the world of a very funny story comedian Bert Kreischer tells during his stand up act that was captured on video and went viral.

The story is funny enough. Kreischer is funny when telling it. Yet, this new adventure Bert goes on is just O.K. The reason it never elevates beyond its source material is because it wants to be something more than just a wacky story. There is an emotional throughline in the film that is never earned. At one point Bert’s eldest daughter has an outburst at her birthday party. She starts crying and rather than the scene feeling real, it’s too intimate, too early. It’s stuck to the narrative like gum on a shoe.

This odd feeling is perpetuated by a lack of score in some of the beginning where jokes are supposed to be vulnerable and from a dark place, but fall flat. Without something underneath the tension never resolves. The jokes land with a thud. They’re funny and you know they’re funny, but unlike in the best kinds of cringe comedy, there’s not that good timing or reaction. It’s a bit of a Mike Myers effect where in the early scenes Bert has to be the only one who’s funny and the one who gets the best lines. Without music or a reaction to underscore it, he just looks like a complete jerk.

There are other pieces that don’t really fit as well. It’s mostly the action scenes. They are superbly choreographed and shot very well. They just don’t fit. They feel entirely tacked onto the film like they can be cut out and used for someone’s demo reel. Director Peter Atnecio already has a reputation as an action comedy director, but maybe he’s disappointed Marvel hasn’t brought him on for a project yet. The fight scenes make sense when Bert and Albert (Mark Hamill) get into it with some foes, but there’s no real need for so much Irina (Iva Babic) in full Black Widow mode kicking henchman keister some place else.

What is a delight to see is Mark Hamill. Hamill is so rarely given the opportunity to show off his talent outside of a Star War or some heightened version of himself that he’s a refreshing presence. He’s got such excellent comedic timing and he plays the nitpicking father so well. He’s the highlight of the film for sure.

There are enough laugh out loud one liners that the film isn’t utterly unwatchable. The Machine wants to be the kind of phenomenon that people talk about and word of mouth spreads, but it just doesn’t have the legs the original viral video had. Too much of it tries to be something it’s not, like an all out action film or an emotionally tinged comedy. It’s just so so, which can be a nice distraction from the summer heat.

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘Kandahar’ Features the Return of Gerard Butler’s B-Movie Skills


Director: Ric Roman Waugh

Writer: Mitchell LaFortune

Stars: Gerard Butler, Navid Negahban, Ali Fazal

Synopsis: A CIA operative and his translator flee from special forces in Afghanistan after exposing a covert mission.


I think it’s safe to say that Gerard Butler has been typecast in a slew of B-level action pictures and is on track to become the next Liam Neeson. He even reunites with director Ric Roman Waugh for Kandahar. Waugh directed Butler in Angel Has Fallen and the surprisingly fun Greenland. One who expects Butler to go through an impossible mission to get to his family (that has been the plot of every Butler action film for a while now) may enjoy Kandahar. However, those looking for serious entertainment may leave the theater feeling disappointed. 

At least the action scenes are good. Waugh knows how to direct tight and exciting setpieces, ranging from a car chase inside a densely-packed market, a night vision battle between Tom Harris (Gerard Butler) and a helicopter, and a duel in the sand between Harris and ISI agent Kahlil (Ali Fazal). The latter is the coolest setpiece of the bunch, with Waugh and cinematographer MacGregor amping up the tension with long, wide shots, whilst editor Colby Parker Jr. cuts the confrontation with precision. The result is terrifically exciting and worth the price of admission for the big screen experience. 

Unfortunately, it takes a long time to get going. The film spends a good forty minutes setting up its multiple storylines, of many enemies going after Harris and translator Mo (Navid Neghaban) trying to flee Afghanistan to get to Kandahar after their cover is blown. There are perhaps way too many characters that, unfortunately, do not do much other than act in a brooding evil look. Fazal’s Khalil is a one-note ISI agent with a cool motorcycle. That’s it. He does nothing else but travel on his motorcycle, travel in a truck that carries his motorcycle, and then prepares his motorcycle to travel with it once more. At least it looks cool as hell. 

There’s a journalist character who gets kidnapped, which serves as a way for Waugh to insert a half-assed geopolitical commentary that goes absolutely nowhere, just like most of the film’s side characters. One character appears during a pivotal action scene, only for him to completely disappear during the rest of the film until he reappears at the end to reveal that he died. It’s as if the filmmakers forgot to show that he died in action. But since the side characters are so forgettable, maybe they thought no one would notice?

That said, Butler gives his all for the first time in a long time. He has phoned it in since starring in Olympus Has Fallen and hasn’t gotten any better with time. But in Kandahar, he seems to care about the bond between Harris and Mo genuinely, played with great emotional resonance by Negahban, who is one of the most underappreciated character actors working today (I’ll direct you to his work as The Shadow King in FX’s Legion). They’re why you slowly care about their quest because their performances are excellent. However, this exact story was done in a much better movie a month ago, with only a few differences: Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant (it also doesn’t help that I watched that film last week, which left quite an impression on me). 

In a sense, Kandahar is the Cannon Group version of Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant. It’s got great action and two great lead performances. However, the difference in quality between the two is staggering, especially when it tries to shoehorn a geopolitical commentary that doesn’t work since Waugh doesn’t do anything with his journalistic subplot. There’s a lot he’s trying to balance out in this film  — some of it works, but most of it doesn’t. As far as his collaborations go with Butler, it’s, unfortunately, his weakest, even if he manages to get a great performance out of him. Here’s hoping his next B-grade action film will be significantly better. 

Grade: C

Movie Review (Cannes Film Festival 2023): ‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ Checks All the Boxes of a Good Adventure Flick


Director: James Mangold

Writer: Jez Butterworth, John-Henry Butterworth, David Koepp, James Mangold

Stars: Harrison Ford, Phoebe Waller-Bridge, Mads Mikkelsen

Synopsis: Archaeologist Indiana Jones races against time to retrieve a legendary artifact that can change the course of history.


A nostalgic send off of a beloved character, a fitting addition to a treasured franchise, or perhaps a mixture of the two, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny could easily fit into both categories. Mangold takes the reins on this fifth and final installment to do his very best at achieving an action-packed film teeming with quirky jokes, nostalgic callbacks and enough charm and wit to do the infamous “Indy” justice. The film is by no means perfect, though long-time fans should have fun with this ‘last hurrah’ for the legendary adventurer. 

Harrison Ford is back as Indy and up to his old hijinks in the brand new installment out of Cannes. With the magic of visual effects, the film opens with a startlingly young looking explorer in the middle of his usual old antics, tussling with nemesis Jürgen Voller (Mads Mikkelsen), a former WWII Nazi Scientist. It’s an exciting opening scene with fights atop a moving train and plenty of charm, but we don’t stay here for long. Soon, we jump from the past to present and are introduced to a handful of new characters such as Helena Shaw (Phoebe Waller-Bridge), the now-grown daughter of Indy’s old sidekick Basil Shaw, played by Toby Jones. Trailing alongside Helena is Teddy (Ethann Isidore), a teenage pickpocket and sidekick whose loyalty and allegiance lies with her, aiding Helena in her escapades. With this new cast of characters introduced, pandemonium begins and the adventure is afoot.

Though the adventure afoot unfortunately isn’t quite what it used to be. With lackluster jokes, a number of classically predictable chase scenes and some underdeveloped new characters, the ventures are entertaining for sure, but overwhelmingly average. There’s nothing terribly wrong or disastrous with any aspect of the film, but there’s an old spark that used to exist in the franchise that just isn’t present with this one. A slew of characters embarking on a global chase to locate the ‘Dial of Destiny’  is fun and intriguing enough, but could be more-so. A few risks in the writing of the plot or characters by the film’s four writers could’ve gone a long way in adding something a bit more unique and memorable to this final Indy film, but it commits to what it is well enough.

On a technical note the film has much to boast about. From appealing cinematography by Phedon Papamichael and score by the infamous John Williams, it surely appeases the senses. Nostalgia is the absolute powerhouse that drives this film from the sentimental music to how it’s captured on screen, and is one of its saving graces through and through. A new generation of movie-goers will be able to experience an “Indiana Jones” title on the big screen for the first time, and long time fans should be eager to catch another final theatrical glimpse of their favorite whip-cracking swashbuckler set to the all-too-familiar theme song once more.

The performances are good enough, believable and entertaining, though the standout is assuredly Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s Helena. With her witty quips and well timed humor, she may tap into a bit of her go-to ‘Fleabag’ here and there, but she’s the one that earned most laughs from the audience and seems to fit into the Indy universe with ease. Ford is steady and seasoned, giving a solid final performance and going out on an undeniably emotional though honorable note. Mikkelson as Voller is an intriguing villain and fun addition to the film, but isn’t given much to work with and lacks in screen time and material, which is a shame due to the fact his performance and character held a lot of campy ‘bad guy’ potential. 

Though it’s fun to see the seasoned and beloved fedora-adorned explorer back in action, it’s a bit of an unnecessary addition to an already complete franchise. Perhaps overwhelmingly average, Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny isn’t an outright disaster by any means, it checks all the boxes of a good adventure flick, though it certainly lacks the tangible charm of the Spielberg installments. Maybe the franchise should’ve been left as is, but seeing as it wasn’t, this final swan song of a film is fine enough and is sure to strum at least a string of heartwarming nostalgia into even the most cynical or doubtful viewer.

Grade: C+

Movie Review (Cannes Film Festival 2023): ‘A Song Sung Blue’ is Beautiful and Unoriginal


Director: Zihan Geng

Writer: Liu Yining

Stars: Huang Ziqi, Zhou Meijun, Liang Long, Liang Jing

Synopsis: Fifteen year-old Xian goes to live with her father while her mother, a doctor, takes a job in Africa. Soon, she becomes fascinated by her father’s stepdaughter, a swaggering, liberated and slightly melancholic young woman.


The story being told by Zihan Geng and screenwriter Liu Yining in A Song Sung Blue has been seen plenty of times, particularly in the film festival circuit these past few years. And although the array of tropes and cliches might be bothersome for some viewers seeking a different type of journey, the elegance and naturalistic beauty of the central performances by Huang Ziqi and Liang Jing help the film be pretty engaging on an emotional level. 

Youth is a fragile state that serves as a learning pattern for life’s multiple (and concurrent) ups and downs. Everyone takes it for granted before they realize later that those were some of the most important and wistful days of their life; those are the days that shape our lives. In random moments, we get glimpses of our past experience and feel a splash of youth flowing through oursoul. The directorial debut from young filmmaker in Zihan Geng, A Song Sung Blue (premiering at the Cannes Film Festival in the Director’s Fortnight sidebar) captures this essence beautifully through a story about two girls struggling to find their place in the world. Unfortunately, her film can be placed onto the sorting hat of wispy coming-of-age dramas – where a summer (and a special person) paves the way for the enlightenment of a teenager – that make the festival rounds all year round. 

Set in the early 2010s, A Song Sung Blue follows a shy fifteen-year-old girl named Xian (Zhou Meijun) who lives in the northeast area of Harbin with her divorced mother (Liang Jing). Xian loves being with her mother, although her teenage angst sometimes gets the better of her. However, things will change, at least for the summer, as her mother has accepted a two-month position in Africa so that it can give her better opportunities in the future. Because of this, she is sent to live with her father (Liang Long), who runs a struggling photography studio, for a while. She hasn’t seen him since her parents’ divorce a few years ago. Xian isn’t excited to see him after all this time, asking her mother not to go to Africa so she doesn’t spend the Summer alone. From the moment he appears onscreen, you get the feeling that Xian’s chemistry with him isn’t the same as her mother’s. 

There’s a lot of distance and resentment from Xian, as her father wants to connect with her by all means, even introducing her to his Korean-Chinese partner/assistant and pet monkey. The first two days are a bit rough, as the lonesome Xian is forced to have some of her classmates over at the photo studio, her father taking advantage of the situation and charging them for group pictures. She isn’t being noticed by them or by her father. So, Xian heads to the backroom to take a breather. And that’s when she meets the person that will change her life forever: her father’s stepdaughter, the eighteen-year-old Jin Mingmei (Huang Ziqi). Mingmei will be the guiding light to illuminate Xian’s road of self-discovery and desire – she treats her older step-sibling like an idol, a poster of a celebrity on the wall. 

It is not only Mingmei’s aspirations of opening a shop and ditching the flight attendant courses she’s taking that make Xian want to win her affection. But also the radiance she transmits through her daily life brightens Xian’s previously lonely life; a gray-hued room pops with color the moment she arrives. Zihan Geng delves into the coming-of-age tropes and cliches through these sisters’ newly-formed relationship, serving some scenes that remind of other (and better) films. We have seen this type of dynamic hundreds of times which is a magnet to these movies because people relate to them. I think the film relies so much on the relatability factor that it fails to expand its story into something of greater narrative weight. 

A Song Sung Blue may have a style that reminds of Wong Kar-wai and a blue-hued filter that covers the screen in a hazy lens, shot by a cinematographer (HJY) who seeks out the more grounded side in each frame. But that constant pressure to make audiences feel like they have gone through these same or similar situations holds it back. However, at the same time, this same relationship that is mostly forged by tropes comes through with nuance and beauty, primarily through Huang Ziqi and Liang Jing’s touching performances. An easily identifiable contrast between the two characters – the introverted Mingmei and the extroverted Xian, teenage angst versus the bliss of youth –makes some of the narrative beats quite emotionally engrossing. Mistaking emotions is a crucial aspect of growing up, and Zihan Geng directs these actresses to the point where they reflect this sensation effortlessly. 

The rest of the cast doesn’t leave much of an impression since the story revolves around the two leads for the most part. But, there are a few scenes between Xian and her mother that are quite moving, although recognizable. Zihan’s filmmaking skills are admirable, often demonstrating that the issues with her directorial debut are primarily contained in its screenplay and narrative development. While A Song Sung Blue has its fair share of beautiful scenes, the lingering sensation of been-there-done-that haunts the film during its wistful ninety-two-minute runtime. 

Grade: C+

Movie Review: ‘The Little Mermaid’ Offers Freshness to a Timeless Story


Director: Rob Marshall

Writers: David Magee and John Musker

Stars: Halle Bailey, Jonah Hauer-King, Melissa McCarthy

Synopsis: A young mermaid makes a deal with a sea witch to trade her beautiful voice for human legs so she can discover the world above water and impress a prince.


While the ongoing debate surrounding Disney’s decision to adapt its older animated movies into live-action films continues, it is undeniable that these adaptations persist due to their financial success. The latest addition to this lineup, The Little Mermaid, not only aims to be profitable but also endeavors to capture the essence of the original animated classic while offering a fresh perspective. This recent rendition of the beloved Disney Renaissance tale manages to achieve this goal, although it is not without flaws. The film succeeds in bringing the enchanting story to the big screen, evoking a strong sense of nostalgia for Disney movies of the past. The Little Mermaid stands as one of the finest live-action adaptations released to date, if not the very best.

However, engaging with the film proves challenging from the start. While the breathtaking cinematography captures the mesmerizing and perilous nature of ocean waves, the story loses its momentum thereafter. The absence of an opening musical sequence, omitting both the sailor’s song and the introduction of the sisters, immediately raises concerns about the pacing, which persist throughout. It takes around 15 to 20 minutes before “Part of Your World” finally emerges as the film’s first musical sequence. This peculiar pacing sets the tone for the movie, struggling to strike a balance between providing an enjoyable and entertaining experience while grappling with scenes that feel necessary but uncomfortably protracted.

As one dives into the underwater realm, the captivating visual effects draw viewers into the story. While the film’s promotional campaign may have hinted at a more subdued color palette, the underwater world is surprisingly vibrant and colorful. However, there remains a pseudo-realistic quality that prevents complete immersion. In comparison to James Cameron’s Avatar: The Way of Water, which achieves near photorealism, The Little Mermaid retains a distinct animated quality. At times, it feels as though I am watching CGI recreations of the actors rather than the actors themselves, contributing to occasional clunkiness. The characters’ hair never quite appears natural, and their attempts to simulate swimming seem off, revealing that they are clearly not in water but rather creating the effect in a studio. Nevertheless, the design compensates for these shortcomings. The visually stunning mermaids’ fins appear realistically adapted, as if mermaids truly existed. The extension of scales onto their bodies creates an appearance akin to clothing, offering a unique and distinct look that sets them apart from the shell-bras of the 80s animated film.

A notable addition to the story is the introduction of mermaids possessing a unique and individual “Siren’s Song,” seamlessly integrating with the film’s narrative and aligning with the lore surrounding mermaids. Ariel’s (Halle Bailey) song serves a dual purpose, proving her voice to Ursula (Melissa McCarthy), the sea witch, while encompassing “Part of Your World” with similar melodies. This subtle addition adds significant context to why Ariel ultimately loses her voice. In addition to surrendering other aspects of her mermaid identity, Ariel must also relinquish her captivating Siren allure, including her voice. This added dimension grants her more autonomy, even in the absence of her voice. It is a much-desired inclusion that, coupled with other expanded character traits, grants Ariel greater depth, enhancing the captivation of her story.

Prince Eric (Jonah Hauer-King) also receives substantial additions that greatly enhance his character, transforming him from a somewhat bland yet visually appealing animated counterpart into a more well-rounded persona. While some of these traits effectively contribute to his emotional growth and his relationship with Ariel, others feel lacking and fail to provide meaningful progression for his character or the overall story. Instead, they seem clumsily inserted into the narrative to attempt a more three-dimensional portrayal. Unfortunately, this expansion comes at the cost of other characters such as Flounder and Scuttle, who are reduced to near accessories. Their inclusion becomes almost superfluous, reaching a point where their presence seems unnecessary from the outset.

Among the core characters, Halle Bailey as Ariel and Melissa McCarthy as Ursula truly stand out. Bailey flawlessly embodies the titular character, showcasing her remarkable voice and effortlessly capturing the naivete of the young mermaid who yearns to explore a world she does not perceive as the evil her father warns her about. McCarthy initially struggles to find her rhythm in the early scenes, but once she delves into “Poor Unfortunate Souls,” she completely embraces her performance, becoming the iconic sea witch in a truly captivating manner.

Undoubtedly, the songs are the standout moments of the film, elevating it into a truly enjoyable and entertaining experience. Alongside the heavily marketed “Part of Your World,” the film includes several songs from the original, along with a few additional songs for Ariel, Eric, and Scuttle. “Under the Sea” evokes vibrant visuals reminiscent of the animated musical numbers found in another Disney hit from 1994, “I Just Can’t Wait to Be King” from The Lion King. These songs pay homage to the grand musical style prevalent in Disney films of that era. Ariel’s new song seamlessly blends in with the rest of the soundtrack, fitting as if it were part of the original film. Eric’s song, while pleasing to the ears and visually appealing, feels slightly too modern in style, without necessarily adding a distinct positive or negative impact to the overall film. However, the same cannot be said for Scuttle’s song addition, a rap number clearly penned by Lin-Manuel Miranda, included primarily to showcase the rap skills of Awkwafina as Scuttle and Daveed Diggs as Sebastian. While both actors demonstrate impressive abilities, the song itself becomes grating and easily stands as the weakest aspect of the film, perhaps better off left on the editing floor.

Another minor point of discussion has been the decision to alter some lyrics in “Kiss the Girl.” Personally, I found the alteration to be so slight that I hardly noticed the difference. The change promotes a healthier environment by encouraging the two main characters to kiss, even though one of them cannot verbally express consent. However, it’s worth noting that the original version contains other problematic lyrics that remain unchanged in this adaptation, creating a sense of cognitive dissonance regarding the film’s intended message.

Despite the unevenness resulting from these additions and adaptations, watching The Little Mermaid was still an enjoyable experience. Halle Bailey undeniably shines in the leading role, and her future in the film industry is undoubtedly promising. The songs and story beats evoke a powerful sense of nostalgia, and although I may not actively seek to revisit the film in the near future, I can envision myself casually putting it on in the background for some lighthearted fun. The Little Mermaid successfully brings the beloved Disney classic to life, showcasing captivating visuals, enhanced character development, and memorable performances. While it may not be without its flaws, it stands as one of the finest live-action adaptations released to date, preserving the essence of the original while offering a fresh take on a timeless tale.

 

Grade: B

‘Milk’ 15 Years Later: An Interview with Dan Jinks

I found myself nervous and reaching for my water bottle so much before and during this interview, why exactly I’m not sure because I can tell you that Dan Jinks is so damn chill and a lot of fun to talk to. What I find even more comical for myself is I truly had no reason to be nervous as we’ve spoken before and have mutual friends so to find myself nervous was silly, but in the end worth it. I sat down with the Oscar winning producer (American Beauty, Best Picture, 1999) to discuss Milk on its 15th Anniversary and to look back and discuss everything about his involvement to the awards race of 2008.

Joey Gentile: Dan, thank you so much for joining me today, welcome to InSessionFilm.

Dan Jinks: Thank you so much for having me, it’s been awhile since I had the chance to talk about Milk so thank you for this opportunity.

JG: Of course. So, one of the things I like to do is break the ice with the people I interview with a really fun question, with that said- Dan, if you had the opportunity to go back and revisit any piece of material in film, television, or theater that you’ve produced and create a sequel to see where those characters are at now, what would it be?

DJ: (Laughing) Ya know, that’s a great question. I did a TV series called Pushing Daisies and I always felt that it had more life in it and I never thought we got our full due. There’s been talk of a reboot throughout the years. Ironically, this interview today is being done during the current WGA strike and PD was a show that was affected during the last writers strike. We were off the air for many, many months and when we came back our show just never picked up the momentum or the same audience we had pre-strike. I’m sure Bryan Fuller (creator/writer of Pushing Daisies) would want to take us back into stories unfinished there.

JG: Uh, about Bryan Fuller- cannot wait for Crystal Lake the Friday the 13th series he’s working on, as a huge horror fan here I am so pumped.

DJ: Oh my God, me too. It’ll be great.

JG: So, it’s been 15 years since Milk and as someone who is now 31, I was a sophomore in high school when the movie released and it came out around the time where I came out publicly as bisexual before I fully embraced and accepted myself as a gay man, so this movie has special meaning to me and my acceptance looking back. For you as a producer taking on such an important figure in American gay history who means so much to so many and for certain reasons, how did this project come across your desk?

DJ: It came to me in such an odd route and I’ll tell you that story. So I had known Dustin Lance Black, the writer, since 2000 at an OutFest party that my producing partner Bruce Cohen and I hosted. So Lance and I remained friends and I had heard somewhere that Lance was working somewhere on a script about Harvey Milk and he had attached Gus van Sant to direct. So I call him up to congratulate him and say “hey, I’m so happy for you, amazing news” just assuming there is a producer, because when a director on par of Gus van Sant is attached there’s a producer and Lance said “there’s no producer yet, do you want to read it?” I said “ what are you kidding me?” So I read it that night, called Lance the next morning and then found myself sitting in a room with Lance and Gus. Ironically, I had been such a fan of Gus and had been for years trying to set a meeting for years with him but his agents kept saying “I don’t know” and building a wall between anybody and then I sat down with him and he’s the nicest guy in the world and we got along great and it was a wonderful experience making the movie. It truly was just as simple as hearing a friend had a script and director, calling to congratulate and then I became attached.

JG: You know, something you just said caught my attention just now, and that is you saying his agents were essentially blocking a meeting with him and you. My guy, you’re an Oscar winning producer and you are being denied a meeting? How does that make sense in “Hollywood”?

DJ: It’s a good question and ya know I asked at the time, especially in the wake of American Beauty, this is a town where people get excited when there’s heat on you and there was certainly heat on us as producers and we are also openly gay producers at a time where there weren’t as many openly gay producers and Gus is openly gay so it just made all the sense in the world to meet. I just think it was odd for his agents to truly not be pushing that. I don’t think it was specifically against us, but I think in a general way they were very protective of Gus. In the end, you’d have to ask them because I was indeed surprised (Dan says this with a big grin on his face) we could not get a meeting with him but in the end we became good friends and made the movie.

JG: That is actually the perfect segueway, there was you, Bruce Cohen, Gus, Lance Black, and Elliot Graham (Editor) working on this film, and I’m sure more openly and not openly gay people working on it. It gets going and you have all these gay creatives on this project about a gay icon and you cast Sean Penn in the role of Harvey Milk. Now, I would like to note I myself, Joey Gentile am not one who believes you have to be gay to play gay. I think it actually does more harm because then you’re boxing gay actors into a gay only box. I think you need to cast the right person in the role but see everyone for the role, whether it be gay, straight, trans, any color, unknowns, knowns, get them all in the room and cast from the melting pot. However, we are now in a climate where the idea of gay in gay roles only is pushed heavily so looking back do you regret the casting and how did it happen?

DJ: Here’s the thing, even though it was only 15 years ago it was a VERY different time. The truth is though, we needed a star to get the financing to get that movie made. If we were trying to get that movie made today, (I don’t think we could get a gay actor attached to the lead) the sad thing is I don’t think it could actually be made, I don’t know who that gay actor is who could get us the financing. I want to be very clear that it’s not that I don’t think there aren’t gay actors who could play it but that the movie cost at the time somewhere around $23 million. Even Sean Penn was not enough to get the movie green lit, we had to get that ensemble of Emile Hirsch, Josh Brolin, Diego Luna, James Franco. We needed all of them to get it green lit, it was a hard movie to get financed. It was a movie about a gay politician that even at the time we did it a lot of people living in San Francisco didn’t even know who Harvey Milk was, he was not a well known figure. 

There were people who would walk through Harvey Milk Plaza in San Francisco and not even know who he was at that time. Ya know, I have been asked that question a lot and I can be a little defensive about it because we felt we were so lucky to have gotten Sean Penn. I’ll be honest I spent hours and hours after reading that script, going through lists of actors and I came up with 3 actors who I felt was right for the role and could get the movie financed and the fact that one of them actually said yes was a miracle. None of them were gay men, but I’ll tell you something that was really important to me, Gus, Bruce, and Lance is that we cast a number of gay people in the film. We cast them in gay roles and in straight roles, Victor Garber and Denis O’Hare are two examples. We cast the right person for the role but we did cast a lot of gay people for the movie.

JG: I completely get it, and my opinion on the matter doesn’t line up with Twitter these days on gays needed for gay roles, so I was definitely curious to see how that process went for a film like this. A lot of what is said on Twitter needs to be taken with a shot of penicillin because in the end it’s still a business and business decisions are made that the public isn’t aware of, critics, etc. So as someone like myself who knows the ins and outs like you do, it’s always an interesting conversation to be had.

DJ: I’ll add something to it too. There are movies that I think are important movies that aren’t even getting made right now as a result of “how dare you cast a straight actor in a gay role” that as a result, a lot of straight actors don’t want to play gay roles anymore but also because we don’t have enough stars there are stories not being told, movies not being made that would probably like Milk have a lot of gay actors in them outside of a lead and giving them the opportunity to be seen but we don’t have the stars where you need a star in order to get made, and the truth is at times you need a star. 

If you’re doing a TV series like Love, Victor where you don’t need a star then absolutely try harder to cast a gay actor in that part, that’s not asking much. But if you’re doing a movie that needs a star there are certain realities that are taken into it. I know of many scripts right now that aren’t being made because we don’t have gay stars, and those few gay stars we do have, you send something to such and such actor and they go “I played this already, I don’t want to do this again”. Then you have people going “well why didn’t you get such and such actor” well the truth is they don’t want to do it or they aren’t a star and there we are back at the beginning of sometimes in this business in order to get made you are required to have a star.

JG: No I get it, trust me I understand. So taking yourself back to the making of the film, is there anything you took from making Milk that maybe you didn’t know at the time?

DJ: The thing about politicians (especially local politicians) is that they use a staff of young people a lot. The kids in their 20’s working for Harvey were now in their 50’s when we were making the film and they are characters in the movie, so we’re telling their story too. They would come by the set every single day, the best known was probably Cleve Jones (played byEmile Hirsch) he was someone who Lance Black relied on a lot while he was writing the script for research and access. In the end it was such an important thing to all of them as well because it was such a big part of their life and that was amazing to learn.

JG: 15 years later, what do you hope people get from the film now?

DJ: One of the things that was so important with Harvey Milk was visibility, “if they know us they are less likely to hate us.” I feel like what is happening now with Trans issues, I have a trans niece that I love very much. I care about her health and safety and happiness and it just kills me that the Republican party, they’re looking for issues that can be headlines and rile up the base as if trans people are in any way hurting or affecting their lives and I think ya know again, it goes back to the more people you know, the more visibility in trans characters in film and television it will make it more normal to the viewer and I think that was something, the visibility of it all was hugely important to Harvey Milk and really important today.

JG: Well said. So moving onto- the movie comes out, the response is very good, critics love it, audiences respond, come Oscar time you get a whopping 8 nominations and end up winning two big ones. As someone who came off of American Beauty where you guys swept that season and won everything under the sun, is it more chill the second time around? Or are you just as nervous going into Oscar night?

DJ: Great question, listen, to go through the AB journey with awards was just an out of body experience. It was something that wasn’t expected and as a lot of people growing up I was the nerdy kid who just wasn’t going to win an Oscar. I mean that just seemed completely out of the realm of possibility and when it happened it was a thrilling, overwhelming, and exciting experience. If it ends up being the only time in my life where I win an Oscar then what a lucky person I am. So to be nominated again, as a producer nominated for the film you are the representative because it’s really the movie that’s nominated, it’s just a thrill. 

There was a movie that year called Slumdog Millionaire that did very well, it was having that race to the Oscars that AB had, I called a friend of mine, one of the great Oscar prognosticators Dave Karger and asked him, I said “ does Milk have a chance to win Best Picture?” He very kindly said “ I wouldn’t say it doesn’t have a chance but it would be considered the biggest upset in the history of the Oscars” and I laughed and said “okay, that’s all I needed to know, we don’t really have a chance”. So I went into the evening having fun and feeling so lucky to even be there. I had a great time and didn’t feel the pressure of having to give a speech because I knew that I didn’t have a shot to win. I was thrilled that Lance Black won, and that Sean Penn won and listen, we got 8 nominations for ya know a movie that had a very independent movie feel to it. It happened at a time where that was less likely to happen too because there were only 5 Best Picture nominees too.

JG: Yup, I was gonna say 5, absolutely. Well that was the year that changed everything too. It was the year that caused the rift too because of The Dark Knight and even Wall-E being snubbed for a movie like The Reader. So due to that year is the reason the Academy expanded from 5 to 10 nominees. So after that you saw things like The Kids Are Alright, Winter’s Bone, Her, Philomena getting into Best Picture that wouldn’t have “happened” had it still been only 5.

DJ: Absolutely correct.

JG: I gotta know, where do you keep your Oscar?

DJ: (Smiling and pointing off camera) It’s a little cubby hole in the entry area of my house.

JG: Amazing, love that. All in all, looking back with what you did 15 years ago, are you proud of the film and how it’s aged?

DJ: Oh, I’m very happy with that movie. It was hard in a lot of ways but thrilling in a lot of ways too. I was really happy with many things that could have gone wrong. I remember seeing some miniseries that took place in the 70s beforehand and everything looked so fake from the mustaches on the guys to the tight jeans, it just looked like such a cliche. From our costume designer, a guy named Danny Glicker, to our production designer, a guy named Bill Groom, these people didn’t just research, they researched and researched and researched so to have the accuracy of the most minor details was so damn thrilling.

JG: It’s truly great to see you so cheerful and smiling and talking about your work like you’re a kid in a candy shop. That attitude is so weirdly hard to find now as most people I have talked to look back at their work with ways to change what the final product was, so to see you light up and glee about it, tip my hat to you sir.

DJ: (Laughing) Thank you. I love making movies, I feel so lucky to do what I do and I am happy that I’ve made a few things that I’m hoping have stood the test of time.

JG: You have, truly. Okay, a fun one for you- anyone who I talk to who is an Academy member I love asking this question. As an Academy member, what does it take for a film to get your number one spot on your ballot? And let’s say in the last decade, how often are you getting it “right”?

DJ: See I don’t EVER vote to get it “right,” my vote isn’t ever for what I think is going to win, my vote goes to what I consider the Best Picture, always! In terms of getting it “right” my ballot is always the right one. Ya know, sometimes I’m voting for the winner but often I’m voting for the one that moved me somehow more than the eventual winner did.

JG: That’s amazing to hear and honestly I get it, ya know I look back at this last year for an example and Triangle of Sadness was my favorite movie of the year and I ranked it at 1, until I saw All Quiet on the Western Front and was like wait a minute, nope, that’s it, that’s the best one in the lineup. So even though I rank ToS as my favorite it’s clear for me that AQOTWF was easily the Best Picture but I would vote the same way, it’s not about what is projected to win, it’s about what you think is the best in the lineups.

DJ: Oh, without a doubt. Remember if you’re a voter it’s what you have to do. It’s a different thing if you’re going to someone’s Oscar party and you’re filling out a ballot, then you’re voting on what you actually think is going to win, but for your own ballot you have to vote for what you think is the best.

JG: Nailed it. So Dan, what’s next up for you? What’s on the horizon?

DJ: Well we’re in strike mode in Hollywood, but outside of that it’s all unclear right now. I’ve got a few things set up at studios, a few things I’m trying to package, and a couple of TV things I’m working on. It’s just an odd time due to the strike so there is a lot that cannot be done and as someone who is very much in support of the writers and the WGA I want them to get a fair deal and be resolved as quickly as possible to their benefit. Right now there’s just a huge amount of uncertainty in the business and um, sort of everything I’ve been working on is on pause for the moment.

JG: Oh for sure, pay the writers! Ya know I will be kicking myself in the ass here if I don’t close with this. Fiddler on the Roof, for your consideration- Carol Kane as Yente the Matchmaker, PLEASE make this happen, it has to be done.

DJ: (Laughing) Fiddler on the Roof was a movie I was hoping was going to be made this past year but we got caught in the change of ownership from MGM to Amazon and all that, it’s right now on a slower track. We have a TERRIFIC script from Steve Levinson, Tommy Kail is literally one of the great living directors. It’s just not gonna happen as quickly as I would like it to happen, I am sad to say. But I appreciate your casting thought and will keep her in mind when we get there.

JG: Amazing, amazing, amazing. Dan, thank you so much for taking the time to talk with me today.

DJ: No, thank you!

Movie Review: ‘About My Father’ is an Imperfect, Infectious Comedy


Director: Laura Terruso

Writers: Austen Earl and Sebastian Maniscalco

Stars: Robert DeNiro, Leslie Bibb, Kim Cattrall

Synopsis: When Sebastian tells his old-school Italian immigrant father Salvo that he is going to propose to his all-American girlfriend, Salvo insists on crashing a weekend with her tony parents.


Even if you are a serious cinephile who considers film an art form, you have to be a fan of genre movies. From the drenched digital effects of an action-adventure picture to the ominous murder-mystery thriller, movies are meant to entertain the masses. The same goes for the semi-autobiographical comedy that makes you laugh from your gut, despite its faults. That’s what you have with About My Father, coming from the mind of one of the hottest comedians in the world, Sebastian Maniscalco. This is a comedy in the vein of Meet the Parents and Wedding Crashers that plays into standard family dynamic tropes but happens to be very funny,

Directed by Laura Terruso, About My Father was written by Maniscalco and veteran CBS sitcom writer Austen Earl. The story follows Sebastian, a Hilton hotel manager who is dating Ellie, a delightful artist played by Leslie Bibb. Ellie has a down-to-earth personality and a sparkling smile that lights up the room. They are your classic “opposites attract” type of couple, with Ellie bringing a smile to Sebastian that he didn’t know he had. Quite literally, Ellie has to teach him how to practice and strengthen his facial muscles to smile more consistently.

The couple comes from extraordinarily different backgrounds. Ellie’s family can trace their roots back to the actual Mayflower. Her mother, Tigger (Kim Cattrall), and her father, Bill (David Rasche), are your typical blue-blood yuppies who lament that his father only gave him one hotel to start after he graduated from Harvard. Not to mention her brothers: Lucky (Anders Holms), a champagne socialist, and Doug (Brett Dier), a hippie trained in the art of Tibetan singing bowls, round out an eccentric group.

On the other hand, Sebastian comes from a blue-collar family led by his father, Salvo (Robert De Niro), a stylist who has been building women’s confidence and hair volume for decades. Knowing the value of a dollar, Salvo would always keep his son from ordering appetizers or desserts off the menu. When Christmas came, he would make homemade toys for Sebastian, such as a skateboard (and comments next year, he will make him “one of those Nintendos”). Sebastian needs his grandmother’s ring from Salvo, which he plans to give Ellie as he asks her to marry him. However, his father will only allow it once he meets Ellie’s family at their summer home on the Fourth of July.

The comedy is inspired by Maniscalco’s father, an immigrant from Sicily and an Army veteran who supported his family by being a hairstylist in a working-class neighborhood in Chicago. As a fan of Maniscalco for years, going way back to the days of the 2008 documentary comedy tour Vince Vaughn’s Wild West Comedy Show: 30 Days and 30 Nights – Hollywood to the Heartland, not much has changed since then. The finely groomed and cologne-doused Italian American comedian, with a penchant for class, style, and dry cleaning every piece of clothing down to his boxer shorts, has the same cartoonish delivery that makes for a welcomed juxtaposition on stage, as it does in this film.

About My Father excels when Maniscalco waxes poetically about his life and nostalgically looks back at his upbringing. You’ll also enjoy how the comedian openly disagrees with his father but recognizes the differences in lifestyles with these blue bloods that cannot be ignored. It’s no coincidence that those scenes, particularly when Sebastian and De Niro’s Salvo begin to make jokes at his future in-laws’ expense in private, work because they are straight from the theme of Maniscalco’s “Can you believe this?” stand-up act.

The cast has a nice chemistry together, including the humorous rapport between De Niro and Maniscalco. This is their second film together since The Irishman, where, if you remember, the latter received a bullet to the head from the legendary actor. De Niro has always been comedically gifted in culture clash comedies, but he never plays against type for a reason. While most characters outside the leads are cardboard cutouts from genre comedies, Cattrall stands out the most here as a fire-breathing conservative politician. While some scenes are typically outlandish (such as Sebastian losing his shorts on a Flyboard) and others may elicit eye-rolls (like Salvo using a family mascot for dinner), the scenes are still funny, albeit a bit too long and overplayed at times. The scenes where Sebastian is overtly rude to his father are purely manipulative to play into themes of the comedian coming to his own realization of what family means to him.

Still, you don’t go into About My Father expecting a reinvention of the genre with its lightning-quick running time. It’s a culture clash farce that works because of Maniscalco’s style of comedy and De Niro playing to his long-established comic strengths as a cynical curmudgeon set in his ways. This highly enjoyable movie has an infectious sense of humor and delivers a handful of belly laughs that will put a smile on your face, even as you come to terms with its imperfections.

Grade: B+

Movie Review (Cannes Film Festival 2023): ‘She Is Conann’ May Be A New Cult Classic


Director: Bertrand Mandico

Writer: Bertrand Mandico

Stars: Elina Löwensohn, Christa Théret, Julia Riedler

Synopsis: Conan’s life at different stages is shown with a different aesthetic and rhythm from the Sumerian era to the near future.


With his latest picture, She is Conann, French filmmaker Bertrand Mandico gender -flips Robert E. Howard’s creation, Conan the Barbarian, to create a gory and innovative take on the mythic tale. While it may be an endurance test for some, due to the iconoclast’s inclination toward provocation, the brutal film will be a delicious cinematic treat for those willing to embrace its chaotic nature. “I’ll show you barbarism. Let the show commence!”

French filmmaker Bertrand Mandico has such a distinct vision that his films often feel like they are not from this planet. “I capture the onirism and the magical realism”, he has quoted before. His projects’ dreamlike haze and campy nature have such a singular vision that the viewer is left in awe (and quite stunned) of what they have witnessed. As a result, every single frame gets a different reaction from you – confused, baffled, excited, intrigued, grossed out, and (primarily) staggered. Not even Gaspar Noé’s filmography gathers this range of reactions and emotions from the audience. And he tries more than Mandico to provide shock factor. Mandico mixes genres left and right, never sticking to a specific one. His breakout hit, The Wild Boys, is a coming-of-age adventure fantasy that uses surrealism to express its ideas about gender and sexuality. After Blue (Dirty Paradise) is a Dark Crystal-like sci-fi western. 

What else is he going to come up with for his next feature? Nobody can guess what route he is taking. For his next piece of work, Mandico takes inspiration from the mythic tale of Conan the Barbarian but with his usual flair and intrigue in telling queer (and eroticized) stories. If you thought we would see an Arnold Schwarzenegger or Jason Momoa-type figure – an extremely buff man with a hairy chest waving his sword around like a beast – as seen in multi-million-dollar Hollywood films, you better think again. This interpretation, titled She is Conann, follows the journey of six female reincarnations of the titular character and her fight against the evil Sanja (Julia Riedler). If you don’t know anything about this French filmmaker, I think you will have difficulty getting into this movie filled with torture, sex, lust, cannibalism, and gore.

A hellhound photographer named Rainer (to be more specific, a dog/human hybrid played by the director’s muse, Elina Löwensohn) guides the audience through narration onto this journey of time and the human soul, seeing the different stages of the warrior’s life. Born at a dark time when people used to believe in demons and wonders, She is Conann begins with a flashback in a Hell-like setting. We see an old lady pondering about her past in the presence of Queen Conann (Françoise Brion playing the elder version of the character) and the aforementioned Rainer. The hellhound has always been by Conann’s side. She confirmed her prophecy of becoming the most “barbaric of barbarians” as a teenager. During that time, Conann (in this segment, played by Claire Duburcq) was enslaved by Sanja and her group of bloodthirsty goons that murdered her family. 

After finally escaping the torturous hands of the evil mistress, Conann’s journey begins… and ends… and begins once again because she’s killed by her older self time and time again. Her reincarnations have different paths, ranging from a stunt woman in 90s Brooklyn to falling in love with her enemy. However, all of them contain some amount of brutality, especially when damnation touches her on the shoulder and begins a non-stop massacre of everyone who crosses her path. This episodic structure divides the film into eclectic and visually tantalizing segments that serve little to no purpose in expanding its themes. However, each one truly demonstrates Mandico’s talents as both a provocateur, which deserves some form of props, and as a filmmaker. One aspect that the director has failed to capture since The Wild Boys is trying to blend the imagery with its themes and how one lifts the other. 

His last feature, After Blue, had some incredible cinematography and production. But what we saw on screen didn’t develop what he wanted to say. And, to this day, I still don’t know. In She is Conann, that same thing happens. However, since the film is so bonkers and wildly entertaining (on top of that, severely campy), you can forgive many of those problems. Even though there isn’t much to hold onto with the gender roles theme, the macabre romanticism presented is deliciously unique, and its provocation stirring, ending as an endurance for some and a cinematic pleasure for others. Another positive note on Mandico’s films is that they are very vivid and captivating, pulling the viewer into his world of misfit constructions. It feels as if you can reach onto the big screen and touch (and even smell) everything onscreen – feeling the sharpness of Conann’s sword, the fumes of the stunt woman’s car, the blood on everyone’s hands, severed body parts laying on the floor, amongst other things that pop into the film. 
This wistful underworld, viewed via Nicolas Eveilleau’s lens (often in black and white), is shot in a way that its dreamy haze casts a spell on the viewer. Whether or not you want to be a part of this story, upon entering, there’s no turning back. Mandico’s shock-filled gaze hypnotizes you, and its images will remain in your mind for a long time due to its imaginative madness. The unapologetic strangeness of everything happening will clearly ruffle many feathers, but you can’t take your eyes off it. This sort of effect is rarely found in today’s cinema; less than a handful of filmmakers cause this type of reaction in their audience. That’s a testament to Bertrand Mandico and his pursuit of constantly anomalous MacGuffins. All of his creations have a tactile and eerie feel to them. Some of them leave you in awe because of the beauty behind the madness; most of the time, Mandico gets this reaction when depicting the flora and fauna of his worlds. However, there are others that gross you out in the best way possible. In the case of She is Conann, the gore and sex.  Admiring his ambitions, determination for the bizarre, and curation of some of the most disturbing cinematic moments you will see this year (and probably in this decade), She is Conann has all the ingredients to become an arthouse cult classic; I hope this man continues to make films for an extended period of time.

Grade: B+

Movie Review (Cannes Film Festival 2023): ‘How To Have Sex’ Delves Deeper Than Expected


Director: Molly Manning Walker

Writer: Molly Manning Walker

Stars: Laura Ambler, Samuel Bottomley, Daisy Jelley

Synopsis: Three British teenage girls go on a rites-of-passage holiday – drinking, clubbing and hooking up, in what should be the best summer of their lives.


The Cannes Film Festival has just found its first surprise hit in Un Certain Regard selection How to Have Sex, which is much more than an exceptional directorial debut from London-based cinematographer-turned-filmmaker Molly Manning Walker and a showcase of Mia McKenna-Bruce’s acting talents. This is predominantly an evocative conversation starter. It is occasionally difficult to watch due to the unsentimental glimpse at the female experience, but it is so rewarding once it reaches its closing moments. 

Most private schools have a post-graduation/exam group holiday that serves as a rite of passage for thousands of teenagers worldwide. In Puerto Rico, numerous teenagers who have recently graduated from high school make a trip to the Dominican Republic (Punta Cana) or Mexico (Cancun) to celebrate their “years of hard work” (or slacking off) – serving as a communal last hurrah, as everybody is heading their separate ways after the summer – by staying at a slightly fancy hotel with a pool, binge-drinking cheap liquor to create a numbing effect, and listening to some reggaeton at the nearby bars. The songs of Ozuna, Anuel AA, Bryant Myers, Almighty, and Bad Bunny (before his rise to being a megastar) were blasting out of the speakers at all moments, creating a sense of camaraderie as everyone was singing them in harmony like a choir. However, there are more than a handful of negative aspects.

These holidays can be seen as contentious, and I agree. After attending the aforementioned trip myself a few years ago and reevaluating it later, you notice these groups’ lack of respect and lousy behavior when traveling to foreign places with a beer in one hand and a rum coke in the other. Sure, some good moments may arise from this six-day expedition, as you get to have fun with your classmates (potentially) one last time before heading to college – playing soccer while tipsy, the late-night pool session where we talk about our respective futures, meeting new people from other nearby schools, etc. But, there’s the potential for people’s worst tendencies to pop up; brutish actions caused by drunken and addled teens cause the vacation to feel extremely exhausting and less enjoyable the more time you stay. It is an endurance test that we need to experience to see how truly awful those trips actually are. 

In the U.K., there’s a similar holiday; every summer, in the wake of GCSEs (General Certificate of Secondary Education), sun-seeking teens go to Malia, a town in Crete, Greece, for a couple of days in pursuit of booze-addled ventures to let go of the stress induced by assignments, tests, essays, and the drama that awaits them back home. And London-based cinematographer-turned-filmmaker Molly Manning Walker brilliantly turns that summer holiday into an endurance test for three sixteen-year-old friends while they await their academic qualification results in How to Have Sex, which is playing in the Un Certain Regard section of this year’s Cannes Film Festival. Don’t come into this film wanting something similar to Harmony Korine’s lousy neon-hued party of a movie, Spring Breakers, because Manning Walker has much more to offer. She delivers a coming-of-age story without the cliches and the usual safety net of schmaltzy sentimentality attached to it, opting for a more realistic view of the female experience during those types of situations. 

How to Have Sex begins with the central trio of Tara (Mia McKenna-Bruce), Skye (Lara Peake), and Em (Enva Lewis) preparing to have a thrilling and adventurous four days in the hot and hectic town of Malia. The nightclubs over there offer captivating promotions of cheap booze to make you walk through their doors. They are ready to hit the dance floor, take a dip in the pool, and hopefully conquer some boys and lose their virginity. These initial moments have Molly Manning-Walker showing the girls in very high spirits to embrace the party life – singing, dancing, drunkenly shouting (Best Holiday Ever!) – with occasional moments having them falling down (and puking) just to rise up again and hit some moves. Tara, Skye, and Em have formed a closely-knit pact to enjoy this party paradise before they go their separate ways. Well, at least for Em, that’s the case; Tara and Skye say their future is less certain than that of their friend. 

This is the last hurrah, a trip that might close out their chapter together. Their room overlooking a resort hotel’s pool, where day and nightlife feel like two very different beasts, paves the way for an array of pulsing misadventures, where the intricacies of teenage friendships are in full realistic display. The wear-and-tear of the city’s vodka-smelling haze affects everyone onscreen, making them think about their actions once the starlit skies turn blue. All of this is demonstrated through the facial expressions and chemistry of the leading trio, but mainly Mia KcKenna-Bruce is the one who stands out, transmitting her swindling emotions of excitement and loneliness through a multifaceted glance that breaks your heart. The story later develops when the girls see a group of hungover men in the flat next door: the friendly and brash but shy Badger (Shaun Thomas) and the insensitive Paddy (Samuel Bottomley). 

The former gets a sense of Tara’s swindling emotions, noticing the loneliness and desperation; meanwhile, the latter is inconsiderate and discourteous. The manipulative and constantly-negging Paddy is the one who manages to escort her away from the neon-lit club onto the beach, where the terms of the events that transpire there are concerningly ambiguous – Manning-Walker detailing some of the realistic horrors of what can occur during those group holidays. The film relies on Mia McKenna-Bruce’s acting chops, as her reactions to what she endured are quite complex, and Manning-Walker’s authentic grasp on the subject matter and story during the latter half of How to Have Sex. Tara is still a teenager who wants to have fun. However, McKenna-Bruce adds some underlying pain to her character; her portrayal of the character has a double-sided feature where each look has equal amounts of elation and restraint. 

As Tara’s situation with Paddy grows, you notice how the film’s title has multiple meanings; the inner negotiation of post-sex ponderings causes her to think if she wants to forget it all or go along with her day. But, in the grand scheme of things, these characters, even though these last four days were brutal in multiple senses, they emerge stronger than they were before. We have seen the story Manning-Walker wants to tell before a couple of times throughout the years. Yet, not with such a keen eye for details in its gender and sexual politics, as well as its characters. How to Have Sex has a strong identity and sense of importance that might cause audiences from various age groups to gather around and start a conversation about similar events, whether you have gone on a similar holiday or not. This is definitely one of the most surprising and best films I have seen at the Cannes Film Festival so far. 

Grade: B+

Movie Review (Cannes Film Festival 2023): ‘Un Prince’ is Overnarrated and Leaden


Director: Pierre Creton

Writers: Vincent Barre, Pierre Creton, and Mathilde Girard

Stars: Mathieu Amalric, Pierre Barray, Vincent Barre

Synopsis: Pierre-Joseph is 16 years old when he joins a training center to become a gardener. There he meets Françoise Brown, the director, Alberto, his botany teacher, and Adrien, his employer, all of whom are decisive in his apprenticeship and the discovery of his sexuality. 40 years later, Kutta, Françoise Brown’s adopted child, whom he has always heard about, arrives. But Kutta, who has become the owner of the strange castle of Antiville, seems to be looking for something more than a simple gardener.


Pierre Creton makes some questionable directorial and narrative decisions, such as over-reliance on narration, slow pacing, and over-eroticized storylines, that test the audience’s patience in his latest work, A Prince (Un Prince) – a beautifully shot, albeit leaden and poetic-to-a-fault, picture about the vaporous passionate embraces of a botanist’s sexual awakening. 

The Cannes Film Festival sidebar Directors’ Fortnight (or Quinzaine des réalisateurs) contains some of the most interesting, stylistically engrossing pictures in the whole festival. Sure, most of the big names are competing to win the holy grail that is the Palme d’Or. But, there are awe-inspiring talents in said selection, Pierre Creton being one of them. While simultaneously working as a farmer in Caux for over the past twenty years (serving as a beekeeper, cow herder, and even milk quality controller), the French filmmaker has been inspired by his plentiful positions in the agricultural world to curate his fascination for cinema. As a result, Creton forges a relationship with the grounds he resides in to craft his work and expand on the bond between humanity and nature, relating them to desires, passions, and death. It is fascinating how Creaton has integrated agriculture with filmmaking; I haven’t seen someone do it in that fashion before. 

His latest post is that of a gardener, requiring patience, keen-eyed observations of the landscapes, and hope. And as Creton has done in the past, his latest passion is forged into his next feature-length film uniquely – titled A Prince (Un Prince). Most recently, we saw Paul Schrader using the trade of gardening in the third installment of his “Man in a Room” (First Reformed, The Card Counter) series, Master Gardener. However, Schrader uses the perseverance and silence of the character’s precision in his craft to cover the dark past that keeps haunting him. Creaton’s film isn’t near to being like Schrader’s. Instead, he wants to focus on how the beauty of nature paves the way for a young botanist’s sexual awakening. While all of this sounds quite intriguing and serves potential for a poetic endeavor of passion and desire, it ends up as a slog and a half. 

A handful of beautiful static shots introduce A Prince, as the echoes of the flowing wind sway the viewer into the director’s story of fiery embrace. One of the many narrators (this time, Françoise Lebrun) in the film begins to tell the story of a man named Kuttar. And by how he’s being described, Kuttar seems to be of great importance. The first detail we are given about Kuttar is that he was a delicate and beautiful child – citing that he never complained, albeit while admitting that she never listened to him. Next, the narrator switches topics and begins to talk about her personal life, confusing the audience, not knowing how to contextualize what she’s saying with what we are being shown onscreen. A few minutes later, another narrator arrives. Similar to what we heard before, he also deems Kuttar as a significant figure in his life. But, things begin to take a weird turn when the story we see onscreen doesn’t match the one we hear through the various narrators’ voices. 

The tale depicted via image centers around Pierre-Joseph (Antoine Pirotte), a sixteen-year-old who has entered a training center to become a gardener. In this center, he meets a variety of people that will become a pivotal part of not only his apprenticeship but also his sexual awakening – the center’s director Françoise Brown (Manon Schaap), his botany teacher Alberto (Vincent Barré), and his employer Adrien (Pierre Barray). All of this is seen through highly confusing scenarios with some sketchy progress in the main character’s exploration of passion and affinity. You never know what exactly is going on. And you don’t really care to understand it all because nothing in the film is interesting. This eighty-two-minute picture begins to frustrate the viewer due to its unnecessarily poetic nature and over-reliance on a voice guiding you at all times. Its well-choreographed static shots, combined with the soothing background noises of nature, begin to induce a sleep-inducing effect onto the viewer. 
You notice the care and thought put into A Prince by the director, alongside his team of screenwriters. It definitely feels far more personal than his previous features, Va, Toto! (2017) and A Beautiful Summer (2019). The cinematography by Antoine Pirotte, which is easily the best facet here, is also full of life, breathing some fresh air onto the green landscapes of this erotic fairy tale – even adding some surrealistic imagery to the movie’s latter half. Nevertheless, it never reaches a stable point where one has an interest outside of what beautiful landscape we will see next. It often feels more like an art installation than a full-length feature. From one beautiful moving image to the next, the viewer never knows its context. Pierre Creton has shown us before that he is a very skillful director by using the healing factors of nature to fuel the fire of his cinematic prowess. It just seems that whatever he was trying to concoct in A Prince wasn’t polished enough to see the light of day.

Grade: D

Movie Review: ‘The Cow Who Sang A Song Into The Future’ is a Surreal Voyage Into the Past and the Future


Director: Francisca Alegría

Writers: Francisca Alegría, Manuela Infante, and Fernanda Urrejola

Stars: Leonor Varela, Mía Maestro, Alfredo Castro, Marcial Tagle

Synopsis: It begins at a river in the south of Chile where fish are dying due to pollution from a nearby factory. Amid their floating bodies, long-deceased Magdalena bubbles up to the surface gasping for air, bringing with her old wounds and a wave of family secrets.


One woman emerges from a river and wanders around a Chilean town. She has a strange aura and everything around her starts malfunctioning, but she is too enamored with what she sees to register that she should not be there. When her elderly husband sees her from across the room – as the way she was when she died years ago – havoc ensues and the drama at the center of The Cow Who Sang a Song into the Future starts.

The film, the debut of Chilean filmmaker Francisca Alegría, is hard to define, mixing a family drama marked by unsaid secrets, resentments, and fears, with an environmental message, flavored by singing cows (giving honor to its inventive title) and passionate dances that convey things that cannot be said. While it is difficult to label the film, it is easy to admire its singularity and abstraction.

The Cow Who Sang a Song into the Future starts with the return of Magdalena (Mia Maestro) from the dead, resurfacing years after her passing from a contaminated lake that has killed hundreds of fish. Her appearance brings a crisis in her now dysfunctional family. After this surreal event, and more concerned about her father’s health than her mother’s return, Cecilia (Leonor Varela), a successful doctor, comes back home accompanied by her two children, including her trans daughter, with whom she has a complicated relationship.

The reunion in the family home means an encounter with past resentments and unknown truths that only become more unbearable as Magdalena goes back to her familiar environment, more with curiosity and innocence than any sense of duty to her family. She is too engrossed in her own rediscovery of life to pay too much attention to the emotional turmoil she is creating on those closer to her that continued living with anger years ago.

Alegría, putting together multiple themes inside her surreal story, is not too interested in offering explanations or clear answers to her storylines. Instead, the movie advances within an aura of mystery, unresolved feelings, and uncertainty. No one really knows what is going on, but they still carry on trying to make sense of the present, let go of the past and find peace for the future. In this regard, the film unmasks the complexity of family secrets, long-gone memories that time has made blurry, and conflicted feelings that judge harshly those who are absent and mercifully those who “stayed.” In this weird and ethereal fable, the Latin American reality of marital issues and family ambiguity are painfully exposed, allowing for an emotional climax that is illustrated with hard-earned understanding and new opportunities with the young generations. Nevertheless, to get here the journey is complex, illustrated aptly by a script that is patient and caring with its flawed characters. The story is filled with emotional baggage, but it is ethereal in its offering of conclusions.

The film is a mix of contrasts: it is about the environment and its protection, but it is also about family trauma and its intimacy. It focuses on one family, but it shows a survival issue as universal as possible. It is about the past, but it focuses on the future. Its approach on family and conflict is traditional, but the struggles it addresses – environmentalism, identity and trans liberation – define our modern society. It has too many things going on, but even with its surrealism, it conveys the massive burden that shapes the existence of any person in today’s world with their multiple identities, struggles and tribulations.

At the center of the story, both Mia Maestro and Leonor Varela give heart-breaking and contrasting performances. The first, ghostly and out worldly, conveys everything with her eyes, mouth, and body, never using her voice, but acting as a saving figure who arrives when it is crucial. The second, taciturn and cold, goes through a whole transformation presented humbly in Varela’s eyes and demeanor.

The Cow Who Sang a Song into the Future relies on abstraction and undefined ideas to convey its message. While a family drama lives at its heart, newcomer filmmaker Francisca Alegría is skilled enough to go beyond this intimacy and offer a message of environmentalism, acceptance, and curiosity for the wonders of this planet.

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Showing Up’ Heals Your Soul


Director: Kelly Reichardt

Writers: Jonathan Raymond and Kelly Reichardt

Stars: Michelle Williams, Hong Chau, Andre 3000

Synopsis: A sculptor preparing to open a new show tries to work amidst the daily dramas of family and friends.


Watching a Kelly Reichardt film is a refreshing experience purely based on her minimalist style. While her last film, the “udderly” entertaining First Cow, focused on working-class characters, dreary skies, and a rusting setting, her latest film focuses on blue-collar academics and artists working to find their voice and make their mark on the world. Many will find her style a slow churn, but watching a Reichardt film is like leaving the city for the country on a quick holiday. In a world filled with bombastic movie franchises coming out this month, like Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 and Fast Ten, her film Showing Up’s relaxed pace is a big breath of fresh air that’s good for the soul.

Reichardt co-wrote the script, along with long-time collaborator Jonathan Raymond, and it is filled with neurotic characters but avoids clichés by stripping down the neurosis and internalizing anxiety and depression instead of having every character wear them on their sleeves. Those characters include Lizzy (Michelle Williams), a sculptor embarking on a career-defining exhibition of her work but can’t take a hot shower because her landlord Jo (Hong Chau), isn’t able to afford to fix the water heater. Her manic-depressive brother Sean (Joe Magaro) goes months without talking to his family. Her divorced parents (Maryann Plunkett and Judd Hirsch) bicker whenever they are in the same room together.

The performances are lovely and filled with Reichardt disciples. This is Michelle Williams’ fourth film with the director, after working on Meek’s Cutoff, Wendy and Lucy, and Certain Women. The great actress takes over a character’s persona so well that they hide in plain sight. That’s what Williams does here; she is so unrecognizable even though she’s on the screen before you because she fully and thoroughly inhabits a quietly suffering character. There are very few actors in the world who can immerse themselves that inhabit a role like Williams. I’d bet the average film fan wouldn’t be able to recognize her.

The same goes for Hong Chau, who has had quite a year with an Oscar nomination for The Whale and being cast in the uber-popular Netflix series, The Night Agent. No matter the material, There’s no role she doesn’t immerse herself in. Here, you notice her character’s relaxed and carefree demeanor, which serves as an antonym to Lizzy and gets under your skin. Mind you, not because of any intense dislike, but because she can live her life without regret, something that Lizzy cannot. The always terrific Magaro, the star of First Cow, is relegated to a glorified cameo but is compelling here as the family outcast. Magaro is an outstanding performer who stands out in any role, regardless of its size. The handful of scenes shows how short the distance can be between true creative genius and major mental health disorders.

You may be surprised that this film is labeled as a comedy because it lacks laughs, and the movie will be more challenging than most for audiences to digest. However, Showing Up is an understated drama about healing. Most artists have tortured souls for one reason or another, and you’ll find glimpses of that in the characters. A subplot of Lizzy and Jo tending to a pigeon’s health serves as a metaphor for what is happening around the main character. Reichardt aims to examine how solemn or eccentric artists self-soothe through their work and the world around them. By caring for someone or something else, Lizzy learns to treat herself with love and compassion in order to heal.

As we said, Showing Up is good for the soul.

 

Grade: B

Movie Review: ‘Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant’ Gives Everything Away


Director: Guy Ritchie

Writers: Guy Ritchie, Ivan Atkinson, and Marn Davies

Stars: Jake Gyllenhaal, Dar Salim, Sean Sagar

Synopsis: During the war in Afghanistan, a local interpreter risks his own life to carry an injured sergeant across miles of grueling terrain.


The United States left over seven billion dollars in military equipment when they withdrew from Afghanistan, but the price of leaving seventy-eight thousand Afghan allies is incalculable. Most of these were interpreters and were promised visas for themselves and their families after completing their mission. Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant is given a proper big studio treatment but once again tells the story through the lens of a white savior character instead of the most interesting subject of the tale.

Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant tells the story of Master Sgt. John Kinley (Jake Gyllenhaal) who leads an elite unit looking for Afghan insurgents. Kinley is an officer who has to put their trust not only in their local interpreter’s translation but also in the knowledge of the communities in the surrounding areas. Their newest interpreter goes by the name of Ahmed (Dar Salim), who used to be a mechanic before the war. He proves his worth to Kinley by sniffing out an ambush early on. Ahmed has reason to so wary of spies from the Taliban – his son was murdered by the predominantly Pashtun, Islamic fundamentalist group.

After watching the film, you will realize the trailer gives away most of the movie, so there are no real surprises. Guy Ritchie co-wrote the film with Wrath of Man and Operation Fortune: Ruse de Guerre scribes Ivan Atkinson and Marn Davies. The second act primarily deals with what you already know — Ahmed carried Kinley safely through rough terrain littered with the Taliban. The film is not based on a true story but is inspired by the broad idea of the sacrifices the brave local interpreters made. 

Guy Ritchie’s film may be his most mainstream to date, and I’ll admit the first two acts are very suspenseful and even exciting. That includes the film’s first big gun battle, where Kinley and company stumble upon an insurgent base filled with ammunition and even an area to torture hostages while taping them. Another scene shows how reliant the U.S. Army is on these men, in which one of their translators intentionally misleads them. These set pieces are extraordinarily well-done, brutal, and eye-opening to the everyday dangers of patrolling during Operation Enduring Freedom.

You’ll enjoy the performances from Gyllenhaal and especially the gravitas Dar Salim brings to the role here. There’s a genuine visceral feeling when Salim’s Ahmed carries Gyllenhaal’s Kinley to safety. There is a tension-filled grip that holds the viewer’s attention and will hardly let go. However, the film stumbles in its third act when you get the white survivor’s guilt, which seems a bit pie-in-the-sky. Kinley goes in alone to bring back the man who saved his life, who has been waiting for approval while hiding from the Taliban, who have Ahmed on their most wanted list. The final scenes, which involve The Boys’ Antony Starr being paid to help with the rescue, bring one too many overwrought action scenes that feel repetitive rather than building any additional exhilarating action.

And that’s a significant issue with Guy Ritchie’s The Covenant. The final act would have made the film work so much better if it dealt with Ahmed’s struggle to survive rather than Kinley’s guilt and depression of leaving one man behind. Besides playing into the white savior trope, the film plays it too safe by being too conventional, which is commonplace in most action-adventure films. Sure, it’s inspired by current events where wounds are still exposed, but that rescue effort hinders Ritchie’s film from being great.

For a better film, please check out the far superior and the haunting nature of Matthew Heineman’s documentary Retrograde, a powerful film in scope and examines themes from a lens from the men who lived it.

 

Grade: C+

What To Watch At Cannes This Year

The 76th annual Cannes Film Festival is back and that means a close eye on what big films are coming out and what winners will emerge for Oscar contention. Now, I am not going to play that game of predicting the Oscar so early and don’t think about it until October at the earliest. But, it was in October that last year’s Palme d’Or winner Triangle Of Sadness was hitting the festival circuit en route to three Oscar nominations including Best Picture. Elvis and Top Gun: Maverick were both major out-of-competition screenings there where they received a rousing standing ovation. The head of the jury this year is Sadness director Ruben Ostlund with actors Paul Dano and Brie Larson also part of the jury.

While not all of the films will be known or expected, the directors attached will catch the attention of everyone who attends. Wes Anderson is back with 1950s-era sci-fi comedy Astroid City, Johnny Depp stars in the opening film of the festival, Jeanne du Barry, Finnish director Aki Kaurismaki comes out of retirement with Fallen Leaves, and previous Palme d’Or winner Hirokazu Kore-eda, one year after returning with Broker, is back again with Monster. Being that it is Cannes, you are either loved or booed to death by the audience. Here are some of the more anticipated films to play at this year’s festival.

Killers Of The Flower Moon (USA)

Martin Scorsese is heading back to Cannes to play one of his films for the first time in four decades. It will be out-of-competition, but his long-awaited 3+ hour true crime drama starring Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert DeNiro, Jesse Plemmons, and Brendan Fraser is a must-see with the weight of Apple behind it. Set in the 1920s, one of the first major FBI cases looked over a series of murders in Oklahoma of the Osage Nation led by a ruthless cattleman who wants to buy up all the land and claim the oil underneath. Power, greed, racism, and the pursuit of justice all rolled up in one explosive setting. 

May December (USA)

In competition again is Todd Haynes with his romantic drama starring Natalie Portman and Julianne Moore about an actress who comes to learn about a real-life woman who she will portray in a film. The woman married a teenager twenty years younger than her, which became a scandal, and now in a crucial moment in their lives, the family finds themselves challenged to deal with their past. Notably, Haynes’ main cinematographer, Ed Lachmann, is not on this film as he was recovering from an injury, so Kelly Recihardt’s main cameraman, Christopher Blauvelt, fills in as DP here. 

Occupied City (UK)

While he is busy on his next narrative feature, Blitz, Steve McQueen arrives with a special presentation of this documentary about Amsterdam under Nazi occupation. The film is based on the book written by his wife, Bianca Stigter, and the couple lives in Amsterdam. Most films of the period have consistently looked into France, Germany, Italy, the UK, Poland, and the Soviet Union. Very few films have actually gone to other nations victimized by Nazis; not much about Norway, Denmark, Luxembourg, or other nations affected by the occupation.

Strange Way Of Life (Spain) 

After his opening English short The Human Voice with Tilda Swinton, Pedro Almodóvarfollows it up with his own gay Western featuring Ethan Hawke and Pedro Pascal. For a moment, he was connected to direct Brokeback Mountain in 2005; I can only imagine how that would’ve gone, even though Ang Lee’s film is a masterpiece. In this story, Almodóvarshows two friends who reunite after many years away and reminisce about their past. Already, he’s planning his first English full-length feature and this is just another step forward to seeing it happen. 

The Zone Of Interest (UK/Polish)

Writer/director Jonathan Glazer has only made four films in a span of twenty-three years, first with his acclaimed debut Sexy Beast (2000), then his reincarnation drama Birth (2004), and then his mysterious sci-fi drama Under The Skin (2013). Ten years later, he is finally back with this WWII drama starring Sandra Huller and Christian Friedel about a Nazi officer in Auschwitz’s concentration camp who becomes infatuated with the wife of his superior, the camp commandant. A24, who also has the rights to Occupation City, is behind the film, and while his last film didn’t do well at the box office, if Zone is good, Glazer could be rewarded and A24 can cash on Glazer’s consistent strength of work. 

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review: ‘Sanctuary’ Never Settles For Less


Director: Zachary Wigon

Writer: Micah Bloomberg

Stars: Christopher Abbott, Margaret Qualley

Synopsis: Follows a dominatrix and Hal, her wealthy client, and the disaster that ensues when Hal tries to end their relationship.


There’s an interesting dynamic at play in Zachary Wigon’s Sanctuary. The film serves as a chamber piece for the relationship between Hal Porterfield (Christopher Abbott)  and Rebecca Marin (Margaret Qualley). What begins as a seemingly standard legal procedure between the two morphs into something much more playful, the very root of the film itself. Rebecca is a dominatrix, and Hal and her developed quite a rapport as he began stepping into the massive shoes of his recently deceased father, a hotel magnate. As Hal’s innermost feelings become revealed via his submissive relationship to Rebecca, the power dynamics at play become the very crux of the film. As Rebecca tells Hal early on in the film, what her clients need “isn’t physical… it’s mental.” In a film limited both by its runtime and singular location, Wigon and screenwriter Micah Bloomberg are able to dive into a bevy of ideas ranging from tongue-in-cheek playfulness to interesting social commentary.

None of Sanctuary could work without its two lead and (essentially sole) performers, Qualley and Abbott. The push-and-pull between them is electrifying on screen, and as their relationship twists and develops over time, it becomes clear just how great it must feel for an actor to take on a film such as this. Due to its isolated nature, a chamber piece will live or die by how invested the audience is in its characters. So, as we see Qualley committedly dive into a performance within a performance, it’s no shock why she’s becoming such a well-known figure on the big screen. In an early conversation with Wigon prior to accepting the role, she said the characters “reminded her a little bit of jazz.” Sanctuary has  a plethora of moments that will leave the audience pondering over what exactly is happening, not out of confusion, but out of fascination. Motivations appear to change in the blink of an eye, and these moments serve as a reminder that some people are just fragile shells waiting to be cracked open and examined psychologically.

Take Hal for example. When explaining the character, Bloomberg said, “his entire life is a performance,” but only came upon this thought after Abbott took on the role. Upon first meeting Hal, he cockily maneuvers through legal hoops with drink in hand. He appears to be more than well-off, but very quickly, the facade falls apart. Rebecca succinctly points out that he has no idea what he wants. Hal is revealed to be nothing but another sad, rich man. Through repeatedly booking sessions with Rebecca, he sees his spending as a way to give into his insecurities in a way that feels rewarding rather than just letting them win. But seeing the push and pull between Hal and Rebecca is wickedly twisted and deviously fun. Also, on a purely cinematic level, Sanctuary is incredibly well-structured and visually creative. At key moments in the film, colorful interstitials break up the action in a way that feels reminiscent of Punch-Drunk Love. After all, both films feature broken men hoping to pick up the pieces of their lives and the relationships around them.


If the adoration of Succession can tell us anything about what audiences enjoy, when it comes to flawed yet compelling characters, with a dash of business jargon peppered throughout, it will be a hit. There’s something fascinating about taking seemingly complex businesses and funneling them into the key figures at the top of the heap. As the cast and crew of Sanctuary examine every inch of its own characters, warts and all, it leans into the notion of being able to accept everything about oneself. There’s the age-old adage present of never settling for something less than your potential calls for. Yet there’s also a very refreshing angle within Sanctuary regarding the idea of knowing what is best for oneself, even if that may seem lesser in the eyes of some around us. For a film that could easily fall into some rocky territory fairly quickly, Sanctuary is able to bring its viewer on a wild ride that will leave you with a devilish smile until the very end.

 

Grade: B-

Movie Review: ‘Book Club: The Next Chapter is No Page Turner


Director: Bill Holderman

Writers: Bill Holderman and Erin Sims

Stars: Diane Keaton, Jane Fonda, Mary Steenburgen

Synopsis: Follows the new journey of four best friends as they take their book club to Italy for the fun girls trip they never had.


2018’s Book Club was a pleasant surprise, but it worked because of the chemistry between its four leads. It was also very funny and delivered on the insane premise of four old ladies whose lives drastically change after they read Fifty Shades of Grey. Regardless, no one asked for a sequel, but it’s here anyways, and…it’s not very good. The truth of the matter is Book Club: The Next Chapter has virtually nothing of interest to say and is nomore than a series of unfunny situations that drag on for far too long as our lead characters, Diane (Diane Keaton), Vivian (Jane Fonda), Sharon (Candice Bergen) and Carol (Mary Steenburgen) go to Italy to celebrate Vivian’s engagement to Arthur (Don Johnson), after they rekindled their old love in the first film. 

This will lead them to a series of unfunny platitudes, à la 80 for Brady. However, unlike that movie, which put its stars in plenty of funny situations, Book Club: The Next Chapter has little to offer. Director Bill Holderman and cinematographer Andrew Dunn forego the cinematic style of the last film and decide to shoot it in 1.85:1, giving it a glossy Hallmark look. Dunn’s last credit was for Jim Strouse’s Love Again, which was as Hallmark as it got. The shrill, string-heavy score from Tom Howe also doesn’t help. However, it accompanies most of the flat performances from its leads, which was the main reason why the first one worked in the first place. 

I feel people underappreciate how funny Diane Keaton can be, and she certainly is the highlight of this film, once again. Keaton and Steenburgen share the funniest situations in the movie, and their comedic timing is spot-on. The cucina scene was the funniest part of the trailer and is even funnier in context. They seem like the two are actively having fun with the material, even if it is as uninspired as it may come and much less funnythan the first. As for Bergen and Fonda, they’re unfortunately not up to the same level as Keaton and Steenburgen. It is a shame, especially for Bergen, who was a significant highlight of the first movie, juggling between her stoic presence as a Federal Judge while also trying to appear more “hip” (as they say) around someone like George (Richard Dreyfuss) or Derek (Wallace Shawn). 

Holderman seems to only give Bergen lines about her being old, which she consistently repeats for the entire runtime. If you liked the “I like cities that are falling apart more than I am” line because “haha, she’s old! Get it???,” you’ll probably like the movie because that’s the entire basis of its humor. I did enjoy her on-screen chemistry with Hugh Quarshie, who plays a philosopher whom the girls meet in Venice, and Giancarlo Giannini’s police officer, who recurrently appears and has a love-hate relationship with Sharon. Those elements were fun to watch, but they’re overshadowed by long, drawn-out scenes where our leads consistently “tempt fate” by living a successive series of one unfortunate event after the next. At some point, the schtick becomes tiresome because there’s no flow in how everything goes wrong…and then goes right…and goes wrong again. 

The real kicker is the final scene, which I won’t spoil, which never seems to end. None of the supporting counterparts, played by Andy Garcia, Craig T. Nelson, and Johnson, have anything to do throughout the runtime (apart from an extremely painful scene in which Nelson’s Bruce cooks Bacon in secret while Carol is in Italy after he suffers a heart attack during COVID-19. This is apparently a key plot point that goes absolutely nowhere), so they cram them all into one very long and extremely dull scene, painful for everyone involved, even Keaton and Steenburgen who can’t seem to hold their own. 

The result is a rather dull and monotonous affair that shouldn’t have been made. The first movie was such a fun time, with a great framing device, that all four leads could’ve reunited for something completely different. Instead, they decide to reunite for a COVID-era movie that is neither funny, nor watchable. Some will find light enjoyment in it, but it’s nowhere near as good as the first movie. At the end of the day, you will be in no hurry to finish Book Club: The Next Chapter and will probably want to put it down many times. 

Grade: D

The French Comic Calamity: Peter Sellers, Blake Edwards, And A Pink Panther

When I was a child, I watched reruns of The Pink Panther cartoons that ran from 1969 to 1980. No dialogue, just the titular character doing various hijinks like a silent movie, but with sound effects. That was preferable to the short-lived 90s version in which the Panther had a voice. The cartoon came from the opening and closing credits of the live-action movies where, when I was about 12, I learned the name wasn’t about an actual animated animal. In fact, the Pink Panther refers to a pink diamond that, according to legend, if held up to the light from a certain angle, the figure of a panther can be seen. It is an unintentional flaw, yet it makes the diamond more pristine and worth stealing.

The leader of this search is the bumbling French detective Inspector Clouseau, played famously by the comic legend, Peter Sellers. It came at the height of his fame, in between his performances in Lolita and Dr. Strangelove, both directed by Stanley Kubrick. Originally, the role was written for David Niven, who then elected to play the thief, Sir Charles Lytton, in the first film. Peter Ustinov then committed to the part, but after dropping out, Sellers was cast. Fascinating though was the fact that Blake Edwards, fresh from his acclaim directing Breakfast At Tiffany’s and Days Of Wine And Roses, did not initially write it to be a slapstick comedy or a major franchise. 

Edwards was an actor-turned-writer/director who later married Julie Andrews. He was influenced by silent films and the comedies of Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, and Harold Lloyd and his style of directing would use these characteristics. Under Ustinov, Clouseau would’ve been a straightforward detective who gets caught up in misunderstandings, but Sellers’ love for the same films as Edwards allowed for improvisation that made Clouseau a buffoon of a detective. David Niven received top billing as the lead character, but it was Sellers who were a consistent scene-stealer and made The Pink Panther a hit and United Artists commissioned a sequel immediately. 

The films in the Edwards/Sellers combo were all scored by longtime collaborator Henry Mancini, whose theme to the movie and series made it synonymous with the cartoon character. The slow jazz brooding to the first tunes of the saxophone gives off this trance which lures you in before a bang involving the rest of the horn section rises. Jazz is a common genre of music in detective mystery films from the 1950s and 1960s, being used for the serious and light-hearted tones of the film. Mancini’s use of tempo allowed the animators to draw their pink panther’s movements to it with the opening and closing credits. 

David DePatie and Friz Freleng created the character as this sneaky, smart creature who toys with the cartoon version of Clouseau who goes on the trail yet can’t see the panther, even if it stands in front of him. DePatie and Freleng would make an animated short, The Pink Think, and win an Oscar for it in 1964. They got a second nomination two years later for The Pink Blueprint. For later feature films, the actions of the pink panther and Clouseau would be exaggerated in satirizing other films and imposing the cartoon panther in the live-action final scene. It is this cartoon that burns in my mind foremost and which is what is universally recognized than the name Inspector Clouseau. 

A Shot In The Dark, the sequel, also wasn’t meant to be part of the whole Panther sphere. It was based on a French farce that Edwards was to direct already but decided to rewrite the leading investigator in that story as Clouseau. It allows Sellers to expand his comedic muscle and mold Clouseau in his way. In attire, Clouseau wears a distinctive trilby hat and trench coat while sporting a distinct mustache. When he talks, the pronunciations in Sellers’ faux French accent convert certain words to have an “eu” in the middle, such as bomb is “beumb” and room as “reum.” Wherever he goes, he destroys things and fails miserably getting into places because of his lack of awareness. Some of his hidden identities are too ridiculous, yet it gets him into places. In the end, the greatest luck in the world leads to him solving the case. 

However, the relationship between Sellers and Edwards soured to the point they vowed never to work with each other again. Within a few years, they reconciled and got back together in 1975 for the third installment, The Return Of The Pink Panther. Using the named diamond as the catalyst again, Clouseau is back in action but with an extra threat: his boss, Chief Inspector Dreyfuss (Herbert Lom). Dreyfuss cannot stand Clouseau for his stupidity, yet is jealously enraged to see him succeed in solving these crimes that it drives him to homicidal madness. Sir Charles Lytton returns, this time played by Christopher Plummer, and he goes from retired jewel thief to wanted man after learning the diamond’s theft is blamed on him. The Return received much critical and commercial acclaim, reviving Sellars’ fortunes as a major comedy movie star. The fourth installment, The Pink Panther Strikes Again, was commissioned immediately, this time completely focusing on the Dreyfuss’ lunacy for wanting Clouseau dead and blackmailing every nation to send their best assassin to kill him.

Financially successful again, the fifth film was then green-lit, but by now, a decline for the whole series started to be felt, and the relationship between Sellers and Edwards once again soured. This time, Sellers, who wasn’t happy with the final product in Strikes Again, was able to contractually get story approval and producer credit for Revenge Of The Pink Panther, released in 1978. Financially less successful than the previous films, Edwards stepped away originally from directing a sixth feature, this one completely scripted by Sellers, before the comedian’s sudden death on July 24th, 1980. Returning to the series, Edwards decided to make the sixth feature, Trail Of The Pink Panther, assembled around outtakes of Sellers from the previous films around new footage of a journalist who tries to find out if Clouseau is indeed deceased. 

Released in 1982, this time, the legacy of Sellers and the wrap-up of his performance as Inspector Clouseau did not have critical support and barely broke even at the box office. Worse, Sellers’ widow successfully sued Edwards, United Artists, and MGM for damages as they were contractually obliged not to use outtakes without permission from the estate. Edwards would make two more Panther features, Curse Of The Pink Panther in 1983, and Son Of The Pink Panther in 1993 starring Roberto Bengini as Clouseau’s illegitimate son. Both were complete flops, and the series came to an official end. 

Of course, there were the two reboot films starring Steve Martin in 2006 and 2009, but both were nowhere close to what the Edwards/Sellers collaboration accomplished. Currently, another reboot is in the works, this time a CGI animated/live-action hybrid version that is to be produced by Julie Andrews. Blake Edwards, who retired after making Son Of, died in 2011. Frankly, they should leave it be. It is impossible to capture the same classic humor and silliness that Sellers was able to open naturally and how Edwards was able to capture all of it in consecutive films. As much as it is Seller’s unchallenged talent, it is never easy for one director to continue making high-quality features without getting lazy. This is the legacy of these two titans for a highly acclaimed series. 

Follow me on Twitter: @brian_cine (Cine-A-Man)

Movie Review: ‘Hypnotic’ Fails At Mesmerizing Audiences


Director: Robert Rodriguez

Writers: Robert Rodriguez and Max Borenstein

Stars: Ben Affleck, Alice Braga, William Fichtner

Synopsis: A detective investigates a mystery involving his missing daughter and a secret government program.


When you read the synopsis of Hypnotic, it seems like a throwback to the sci-fi conspiracy thrillers of 25 years ago. It’s got all the elements of studio catnip before studios became IP factories. It’s got a big star in Ben Affleck and a cool director in Robert Rodriguez. Hypnotic could have heralded a return to wide releases for original films.

Instead, Hypnotic is a needlessly convoluted Inception clone, with no style at all. It’s like Rodriguez and co-writer Max Borenstein saw a few Christopher Nolan films and said, “we could do that.” Some of the extremely cliched dialogue can be explained away by one of the too many twists in the film, but it’s more like they just went with the first draft because they had the greenlight from Rodriguez’s name alone.

A lot of the film, indeed, feels like a first draft. The music sounds like it was either cribbed from the library of a failed police procedural or just the sample tracks from a 2003 copy of Apple’s Garageband. The dreaded Division’s uniform is simply red blazers. The special effects of hypnosis are mostly wavy lines around people’s heads.

Honestly, if you added a laugh track and inserted a few shots of Saturday Night Live cast members reacting to the logorrhea of exposition that spills out of Diana’s (Alice Braga) mouth it would be a pretty good parody. Hypnotic isn’t fun bad, it’s boring bad. Bad doesn’t mean entirely poorly made, either. It just means that the best effort wasn’t put forward.

 There are filmmakers that can pull off doing many jobs on the same film. Robert Rodriguez would have benefitted from many more department heads. He’s a competent editor and cinematographer. Some of the sequences do have suspense by the mere virtueof being well cut. Many shots are dynamic and unique to Rodriguez’s style, especially as Rourke ( Affleck) is realizing he’s been manipulated. But his want to and clout that lets him do everything means that there was no one to question or at least comment on certain decisions.

Hypnotic is a failure as a film for a myriad of reasons. Ben Affleck doesn’t help it at all. He’s pretty much on autopilot, waiting for his next five minute cameo in a DCEU movie. He’s an actor that used to get by on his charm and here he’s something far less than charming. His lack of energy brings the whole film down. Alice Braga and William Fichtner can’t save it either. She’s an exposition machine and he’s the antagonist’s stand in.

This film may make a little money. Some from the curious, but mostly when its streaming rights get sold and it haunts the back catalogs of Crackle, Tubi, or Pluto TV. It’s the rare summer wide release outlier. Unlike most of those, Hypnotic just isn’t worth your time. Instead, seek out Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s enigmatic, darkly funny, and disturbing Cure from 1997. A film which Hypnotic’s filmmakers wish it could be. 

Grade: D

Op-Ed: Britain’s Working Class: A Journey Through the Films of the 1960s

The working-class communities of Britain are etched into the very foundations of the countries that structure it. These people – these salt-of-the-earth individuals – have been on a journey through wreck and ruin since time immemorial, right up until the present day. Whether it was during the smog-drenched industrial times of the 1800s, most of which spilled out into the new century, or a post-war Britain still feeling the poverty-like conditions resulting from those dark events, whatever the cause, Britain was left reeling from pain for years. The 1960s was a decade that had the hopes of the people reliant upon it; to change people’s lives for the better, and even though the “Swinging Sixties” were monumentally freeing for some, there was still a divide of classes that was hard to forget.

Film has always been a great method of escapism; saving up all those shillings (old British currency for those wondering) from working down the mines or in the factory, to spend on an exciting trip to the pictures – the saving grace for many people during that time. If they were lucky enough to afford it, that is. The question is though: how did this decade of film represent its working-class people? Well, ultimately, it produced some of the most iconic British films to date. The frustrations of angry young men – a term that was linked to the youth of the era – became the structure for the much loved ‘kitchen sink’ genre that produced undeniable realism in its portrayals.

A film that kickstarted the decade, a film that has since become one of the most iconic British films of the century, was the Karel Reisz film Saturday Night and Sunday Morning. It is such a wonderful example of the mentality of working-class youth in a small Northern town; indestructible to the world, even if this world that they exist in consists of a small prison-like settlement. There’s a saying used a lot in England: “a small-town mentality”, which perfectly depicts the mindset of many a young person who hails from such a place. In Saturday Night and Sunday Morning, the great Albert Finney’s portrayal of Arthur Seaton is the perfect representation of the angry young man who has become a prisoner of this small-town mentality.

Arthur Seaton is in his early twenties and was born into a working-class family in Nottingham, England. He works in a factory (it was either that or down the mines in those days), so he can count himself lucky, but to dull the pain of this seemingly unfulfilling life, he spends his time boozing over the weekend and courting multiple women. It’s a sad, almost ominous feeling in reality; working your fingers raw for five days a week only to spend two days in blissful solitude, while Monday slowly creeps back up before you know it – no wonder all these men were angry and bitter. Arthur is really just an amalgamation of thousands of youths from that period, but it’s how the town itself is projected that offers the greatest amount of realism. It is filled with so many hard-working individuals, most of whom are at home with this simple little life – but this film could have been set in one of several northern communities up and down the country because of how relatable it really feels. This place, and the people in it, often assume the world outside their own is not worth exploring or even noticing at least, and there’s something quite dreary and depressing about that notion of thought, one that plagues the minds of countless others to this day.

Saturday Night and Sunday Morning was just a conception piece for the decade though; the mere blueprint for any film that follows it that represented Britain’s working class. There was an enormous number of young people during the 60s that became disillusioned with a dream that would allow them to escape the monotony of this prison-like system. What was that dream we hear you ask? Well, it was to be a famous sports star of course. It was the best route of escape, a chance at stardom unless stardom went to your head, that is.

In 1963, the Lindsay Anderson-directed film This Sporting Life cranked up the stakes with its representation of the angry young man ideology. Starring Richard Harris as Frank Machin, a mine-working Yorkshireman with a knack for finding trouble where trouble is hard to find, and yet, it’s this very temper that gives him his big break with a professional rugby team. Frank is living the dream of so many young men of the time, and although an unpolished player, it’s the aggression and desire he possesses that impresses everyone around him – but when success comes, you need to walk in humility, something Frank needed to realize. His playing career isn’t equaled in his personal life; he loves a widow (Rachel Roberts) with no returned feelings, and his inner turmoil begins to affect his sporting escape route.

This Sporting Life’s gift was its efficiency in becoming hugely relatable. Like the previous film, Frank Machin is another amalgamation of so many different young men – countless times they became the victim of failure, but Frank is a representation of the ones that made it. However, there’s a darkness to the film’s realism and particularly that of Frank’s personality and the relationship he has with the other characters. The use of dialogue is key to the film’s overall representation of the class system too. Margaret (the widowed landlord and the object of Frank’s affection) often calls him a “great ape”, which could very well be deemed as a comment about his upbringing and his apparent lack of education. It’s just one example of the oppression that working-class people have been afflicted with over the years, and although it might only be words, it represents the contempt that supposed higher classes have towards their “lesser” peers.

The aforementioned films are prime examples of the kitchen sink drama that the decade became associated with, but it wasn’t limited to just that, far from it even. The 60s was a period experiencing a lot of changes, both good and bad. For all the excitement around the music and the culture, there was a damning social predicament accentuated by unemployment and housing dilemmas that led to an unprecedented increase in crime and extreme levels of uncertainty.

Ken Loach is seen by many as the king of British social realist films, and it all began in 1967 with a little film called Poor Cow starring Carol White as the unlucky titular animal, with Terrence Stamp and John Bindon in supporting roles. Poor Cow has those ‘kitchen sink’ like ideologies while also attempting to become a lot more diverse in what it was representing. White portrays Joy, a single mum living in London who must now fend for herself after her mentally and physically abusive husband Tom (John Bindon) is sent to jail. However, she soon becomes involved with Dave (Terrence Stamp), a charming criminal associate of Tom’s who swoons Joy and her young son Johnny and tempts them with an idyllic life of love and potential security. As a side note, if you’ve ever seen the Steven Soderbergh film The Limey (1999), footage from Poor Cow was used for the flashbacks of Terrence Stamp’s character – it’s an interesting approach to creating a 30-year character arc at least.

There are aspects in this film that echo through the rest of Loach’s eclectic filmography; the working-class environment and the aggressive men that are birthed from a violent and unforgiving climate. Domestic violence has established itself as a scourge on society for as long as time allows, but it’s inside the seemingly simple lives of the working class where it caused irreparable damage. Poor Cow explores the repercussions of such problems and how one person can have a frightening hold on a person’s psyche: a never-ending plague on those seemingly simple-looking households that are staples in community life.

Although Poor Cow was criticized for feeling false, or in the words of The Monthly Film Bulletin, a “superficial, slightly patronizing incursion into the nether realms of social realism,” a slightly harsh evaluation of a now iconic film it feels, its use (or overuse) of documentary-like footage offers an authentic take on the working-class community in which it is set. There’s a simplicity to it that shines out amongst the rest, whether it’s the neighbors or the characters that give the local public house the charm it deserves, they are all techniques and concepts that have stuck with Loach and his films every step of the way.

To us British, all three films evoke a sense of simplistic symbolism to those that watch them. They were the template for the genre of British social realism to evolve over the decades and take on even more meaning, but still, these examples remain as significant as ever. The working class way of life has undertaken many changes in this country over the years; affected by politics, changed through culture, and cultivated through oppression, but the core values remain the same, and cinema was always there to represent it in so many diverse ways.

Chasing the Gold: What Oscar Contenders Have Been Released So Far This Year?

As the month of May begins, let’s take stock of what films released so far this year have the best chance of receiving at least one Oscar nomination at the 2024 ceremony. This time last year the eventual Best Picture winner Everything Everywhere All at Once had been released, and the Oscar nominees The Batman and Turning Red had come out, too. What’s been in theaters or on streaming in the last few months that have a chance at the Academy Awards? Here are five titles that have potential…

1. Air 

Air is the most likely Oscar contender that’s been released in the first four months of 2023. Ben Affleck’s newest drama tells the true story of how a shoe salesman led Nike in its pursuit of Michael Jordan. Affleck, Matt Damon, Jason Bateman, Chris Tucker, and Viola Davis lead a stellar cast, and the reviews with critics and audiences have been strong since the film’s debut at the South by Southwest Film Festival. Alissa Wilkinson in Vox, for example, called the film “pitch-perfect” and “deeply entertaining.” One major detriment to the movie is that it’s had a quiet release since opening wide in theaters in early April, and I’m not sure if enough voters will remember the movie by the time we get to the awards season. But if the film stays in the awards consideration long enough, we could be looking at nods in Original Screenplay, Best Supporting Actress for Viola Davis, and/or Best Costume Design. 

2. John Wick: Chapter 4

John Wick: Chapter 4 received the strongest box office and best reviews of the Keanu Reeves franchise upon its opening at the end of March, and if there’s enough room for a surprise fifth nomination in Best Sound, John Wick: Chapter 4 could make it into that category. A Best Editing nod a la The Bourne Ultimatum (which won, by the way, in 2008) would be a great show of strength for the movie, too. What hurts the film’s chances is that none of the first three films has been nominated at the Oscars, and the extreme violence might turn voters. However, if there was ever a chance for a John Wick movie to get in, this would be the one.  

3. The Super Mario Bros. Movie

It might not have gotten the greatest reviews, but its behemoth box office and acclaim from audiences might signify a Best Animated Feature Oscar nomination next year, especially if there’s not a lot of competition in the category. The biggest knock against the film’s chances aren’t the reviews necessarily but the lack of respect from the Academy for video game adaptations, both animated and live-action. But when looking back on the last decade of Animated Feature nominees, a few films that got in weren’t loved by critics, particularly The Boss Baby from 2017. The Super Mario Bros. Movie might be able to ride its popularity with audiences all the way to an Academy Award nomination for Best Animated Feature, especially if some of the late-breaking animated films of 2023 underperform. 

4. Beau is Afraid

Beau is Afraid has been a divisive film with both critics and audiences, but Ari Aster’s new three-hour epic might have enough praise to keep the film in the awards conversation. For example, Megan Navarro in Bloody Disgusting says, “Those willing to ride the wave of genre and mind-bending insanity will find themselves rewarded by a profoundly imaginative Kafkaesque odyssey as dementedly funny as it is often horrifying.” Phoenix’s best chance at a Best Actor Oscar nomination next year will be for Ridley Scott’s upcoming historical drama Napoleon, not Beau is Afraid, but Patti LuPone has been getting some of the best film reviews of her career for her supporting performance as Beau’s mother, Mona. The film’s awards chances have been hurt by some poor reviews, low box office, and Ari Aster’s previous two films Hereditary and Midsommar both coming up short on Oscar nominations morning. However, Beau is Afraid could receive a surprise acting or screenplay nod if enough people continue talking about it throughout the year. 

5. Little Richard: I Am Everything

It premiered at the Sundance Film Festival in January, just dropped in theaters and on VOD, and it’s easily one of the best reviewed documentaries so far this year. It’s an engaging celebration of the rock pioneer Little Richard that currently has 93 percent on Rotten Tomatoes and countless rave reviews from critics, like David Rooney in the Hollywood Reporter, who said, “Even if you’re not a fan of Little Richard going into this film, chances are you will be by the time it’s over.” Outside of there being a glut of impressive documentaries near the end of 2023, look for Little Richard: I Am Everything to make it into the Oscar final five for Best Documentary Feature in early 2024. 

Movie Review: ‘Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret’ is a Heartfelt Gem


Director: Kelly Fremon Craig

Writers: Kelly Fremon Craig and Judy Blume

Stars: Abby Ryder Fortson, Rachel McAdams, Kathy Bates

Synopsis: When her family moves from the city to the suburbs, 11-year-old Margaret navigates new friends, feelings, and the beginning of adolescence.


Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret is one of only a handful of films that tell the story from the female perspective of coming of age with a perfect amount of tender love and care. Based on the classic middle-grade novel by Judy Blume of the same name, her book was as influential as a glimpse of the future of what it was like to be growing up in America during a period of significant social change. The story was as much about larger issues, such as losing faith and questioning it, and how that contributed to anxieties, especially for early female adolescents.

Writer/director Kelly Fremon Craig’s (The Edge of Seventeen) excellent adaptation of Ms. Blume’s book follows eleven-year-old Margaret (Abby Ryder Fortson) as she moves from the land of big skyscrapers, apples, and attitudes to a picturesque New Jersey suburb. Her teacher, Mr. Benedict (Echo Kellum), encourages her to explore her lack of faith due to her interfaith, yet agnostic upbringing for a class assignment.

Margaret’s mother, Barbara (Rachel McAdams), is Catholic, and her father, Herb ( Benny Safdie), is Jewish. Barbara’s parents cut her off because she married Herb, leaving Herb’s mother, Sylvia (Kathy Bates), to spoil Margaret and hope she embraces her Jewish heritage. When not spending time with her grandmother, Margaret has made a best friend in Nancy (Nancy Wheeler), who joins their secret club where they make up cardinal rules and discuss everything from boys to their anticipated “red panda” moment (thank you Turning Red for the metaphor).

What sets Ms. Craig’s film apart from other Judy Blume adaptations is that the kids in Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret actually acttheir age. There are cute scenes of the girls trying to force their way into puberty, like the Kool-Aid man through a brick wall, with the chant “I must, I must, I must increase my bust,” and the overwhelming consternation of early adolescence. Craig captures the spirit of Blume’s book in an intimate and refreshingly honest manner that is wholly entertaining and, at times, moving.

For example, watch the way the director captures two moments with the young female characters. Fortson’s Margaret, cute and uplifting, and for Wheeler’s Nancy, encompassing all the anxiety, fear, shame, and embarrassment a pre-adolescent girl can feel, is done perfectly and beautifully. Most importantly, the mother’s reaction tells how meaningful the mother/daughter relationship can be during those crucial times in a young girl’s development into womanhood.

Some may argue Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret is out of touch with society regarding religion. The book was written during a different time and place. (It should be noted that 84% of the global population identifies with a religious affiliation, and only 29% of people in the United States identify as agnostic.) Frankly, the book is timeless as it has become increasingly relevant regarding the passage of time with those all-consuming sobering, and mortifying moments of growing up.

And that’s where Ms. Fortson’s wonderful and even, say, brave performance comes into play. This is a movie about relationships – the ones with her parents, which are touching; the one with her grandmother, which is heartwarming; the ones with her friends, which are endearing; and finally, the one she has with God, which is nonexistent and equivalent to an existential crisis when it comes to Margaret’s pride conflicting with a tremendous amount of self-doubt that she must overcome.

Her performance is a heartfelt gem, just like this movie.

Grade: A-

Movie Review: ‘Blackberry’ is Fun For Those Nostalgic Users


Director: Matt Johnson

Writers: Matt Johnson, Jacquie McNish, and Matthew Miller

Stars: Jay Baruchel, Glenn Howerton, Matt Johnson

Synopsis: The story of the meteoric rise and catastrophic demise of the world’s first smartphone.


Matt Johnson’s new abrasive comedy, Blackberry, is just as much about true genius as it is about the drive never to settle or rest on your laurels. The rise and spectacular fall of the world’s first smartphone, created and sold from Waterloo, Ontario, once held 45% of the global market share. A few years later, the company formerly known as Research In Motion (RIM) had zero in a jaw-dropping fall from grace. How? By developing a dangerous level of hubris in themselves, their product, and their place in society by thinking they reached their own capacity in a constantly evolving field.

Blackberry tells the story of Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel), a Turkish immigrant who immigrated with his Pontic Greek parents when he was five years old. He started RIM out of a small strip mall with his best friend Douglas Fregin (Johnson), with dreams of bringing everything your computer can do to a phone. The goal was to use a free, untapped wireless signal across North America with their invention, PocketLink. As Doug describes it, a device is a computer, page, and “email machine” all in one.

At least, that’s the pitch they make to Jim Balsillie (Glenn Howerton), who is intrigued enough about the idea to look up from the notes for a meeting he’s about to hijack. A melon-headed pompous blowhard, Balsillie knows one thing about business and bluntly interrupts their pitch by telling them they need a better name. Later, after being let go from his job, he shows up at RIM’s offices and eventually strikes a deal to become the co-CEO with Lazaridis, infusing the type of institutional arrogance that was ultimately the company’s downfall.

Blackberry’s script was written by Matt Miller and adapted from the nonfiction business book, Losing the Signal: The Untold Story Behind the Extraordinary Rise and Spectacular Fall of BlackBerry by Jacquie McNish and Sean Silcoff. The film’s shooting style has the look and feel of a mockumentary, as the camera zooms in to capture reaction shots of critical characters. This brings a sense of what these three were doing, breaking the rules and making new ones as they went along. Miller evolves the true story into an absurdist comedy that embraces the theme that it’s easier to ask for forgiveness later than to ask for permission from the start.

The film is perfectly cast, with Johnson saving some of the funniest lines from Miller’s script for himself. Baruchel still brings some of his trademark neurotic style, but he plays the role with more of a stoic quality than one would expect. He has the film’s best scene, exasperatingly trying to explain to the board of Bell Atlantic that new competitors just don’t have that trademark and satisfying Blackberry trademark typewriter click when typing out messages. However, the film develops its infused caustic sting from Howerton, who captures Balsillie’s well-known hostile style in a way that moves the film’s story quickly.

I’ll admit, I had more fun with Blackberry than most, purely for nostalgia’s sake. Growing up across the border from Waterloo, I once owned and loved my Blackberry Bold. I even held the Blackberry Storm in my hands and sent it back because it never worked, then never receiving a replacement. Even the well-known failure of Balsillie trying to bring the NHL to Hamilton, Ontario, is still fresh in my memory. It’s a trend now in films, from Ben Affleck’s Air to the upcoming Flamin’ Hot, of films capturing moments in time that changed the world in some small or large way. Johnson’s Blackberry works as a work of sentimentality for the past but also teaches us to always keep an eye out for what will happen in the future.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3’ is James Gunn’s Opus


Director: James Gunn

Writers: James Gunn, Dan Abnett, and Andy Lanning

Stars: Chris Pratt, Zoe Saldana, Dave Bautista

Synopsis: Still reeling from the loss of Gamora, Peter Quill rallies his team to defend the universe and one of their own – a mission that could mean the end of the Guardians if not successful.


When it comes to the Marvel Cinematic Universe, or MCU as most know it, an argument could be made that the original Guardians of the Galaxy is the most important of the entire series, not just for the ever-expanding franchise and universe, but for the creatives behind and in front of the camera. Before Guardians of the Galaxy, Chris Pratt was best known as a goofy television star who had done character work but never had his film breakout, Dave Bautista was a former pro wrestler just getting into film acting, and James Gunn was a relatively unknown director in the public eye. Since then, however, Pratt has become a bonafide action leading man, Bautista became one of the most exciting actors in the business, and Gunn is running the show for the DC Cinematic Universe.

It’s not as though this rise to stardom for these three, and more, was a given either. Guardians of the Galaxy was a risky project for Marvel; likely the riskiest thing the studio has done in its 15 years of producing media. A movie that had a human team up with the daughter of Thanos (the overarching main villain at the time), a naive and foolish muscular alien, a talking raccoon, and… a tree whose vocabulary is limited to, “I am Groot,” didn’t, on paper, look like a franchise that would eventually bring in over $1.5 billion in box office sales. Nevertheless, this risk that Marvel took reminded everyone, even early into the days of Marvel, what this Cinematic Universe was built on. Now, almost 10 years after the release of the original Guardians of the Galaxy, the newest iteration of this story, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, is a farewell to not only these heroes but a filmmaker as well, all of whom were always quietly the backbone of MCU.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 begins in the past, showing The High Evolutionary (frequent Gunn collaborator Chukwudi Iwuji) reaching to grab a young Rocket (voiced by Bradley Cooper) before transitioning to the present day. In the present day, the Guardians have claimed Knowhere (the severed head of a celestial) as their new home and headquarters. The group is still coming to terms with the outcome of both wars against Thanos (Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame); no one is taking it harder than Peter Quill, a.k.a Star-Lord (Pratt), who spends most of his time drunk in a bar after losing the love of his life in Gamora (Zoe Saldana) only to get back a version that doesn’t love him back.

After getting a drunk Quill back to his bed, Rocket is attacked by an unknown figure, who we later discover is Sovereign Warrior Adam Warlock (Will Poulter), whose powers are unlike any the Guardians have ever seen. The Guardians, with help from other inhabitants of Knowhere, fight off Warlock forcing him to retreat back to his home planet. However, this isn’t until after Rocket is badly injured, and when trying to save his life, it is discovered there is a killswitch implanted on his heart that must be deactivated before they can operate. The Guardians team of Quill, Mantis (Pom Klementieff), Drax (Dave Bautista), Nebula (Karen Gillan), and Groot (Vin Diesel) must team up with Gamora, who is now a Ravager, to find the passcode, while also stopping the Sovereign and The High Evolutionary from getting to Rocket.

Marvel has been rightfully criticized for the look and feel of some of their recent films. For over 10 years, the studio had perfected a style that worked well enough storywise, but really stood out in box office gains. Less individuality has been brought to these movies, and movie after movie it seems as though there is no director’s vision, only Marvel’s. In Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3, however, this couldn’t be further from the case. James Gunn’s final outing is so inherently him that he could have made a case for calling the movie “James Gunn’s Guardians of the Galaxy.” All of Gunn’s idiosyncrasies that made him so popular are there – the jokes hit and the dynamic between the cast is as good as ever – but it is the extra step he took that truly made this one of the more unique MCU projects.

Serving as the sole writer on the film – a choice that had rarely been done in the MCU until lately – Gunn didn’t just infuse this movie with jokes and quips and an emotional storyline underneath, no, he brings the dark into light crafting one of the most harrowing origin stories in film history. The story of Rocket has been relatively unexplored within the vast Marvel universe and for good reason. Using memory and flashbacks, Gunn finally feels the need to tell Rocket’s story and, in doing so, accentuates the pain that the angsty raccoon has been carrying his entire life. There is a strong balance between emotion and explanation in Gunn’s script and there is never a branch into the territory of emotional manipulation as after two solo films and multiple other outings with these characters, their family dynamic feels earned. This kind of tonal balance between the humor and the dark themes is exactly why DC wanted the writer/director.

Just as his script pushed the boundaries of what we have come to know, his direction is raised to an even higher bar. Gunn goes full out behind the camera allowing cinematographer Henry Braham the freedom to capture some of these fight sequences in the wackiest and most exhilarating of ways. Mixed with some of the best visual effects work that has been seen from recent Marvel projects, the fights, no matter where they are and who they’re with, always look and feel real. More than just the fights themselves, the direction matches the script perfectly knowing when to have fun and when to get serious.

And when it does get serious, it is highlighted in the performances. All of the classic Guardians have their time to not only be the silly versions that we have seen for years but also show a side of the characters that haven’t been explored often. Zoe Saldana is great as always, and Karen Gillan, Dave Bautista, and Pom Klementieff all give their best performance as these characters. Meanwhile, Chris Pratt gives the performance of his career as someone who feels responsible for his best friend’s condition and is struggling with being in the presence of his past love. However, no performance stands out as much as Chukwudi Iwuji as The High Evolutionary. His character may not be one of the best villains in the universe, but Iwuji’s performance elevates the character into being the most menacing villain yet. Whether in the present or the past, his constant obsession with creating a perfect utopian society, and his ways of going about it, are enough to strike fear in the audience; but his outbursts and maniacal rage mixed with his moments of quiet paired with his threatening stature provide a true horror for who he is and what he is capable of.

No matter what else, the best part about Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 is that it provides something rarely seen in Marvel-related properties: a proper ending. A sprawling and emotional epic that is both a celebration of the time spent with these characters as well as an acceptance of a future without them. James Gunn’s final Marvel project is an emotional epic, easily the most grandiose the filmmaker has ever been, and DC fans should feel as though they are in good hands. Marvel will miss him, and this group will never be the same, but that’s okay,  they will always be the Guardians of the frickin’ Galaxy.

Grade: A

Movie Review: ‘Renfield’ is a Dracula Comedy With No Teeth


Director: Chris McKay

Writer: Ryan Ridley

Stars: Nicholas Hoult, Nicolas Cage, Awkwafina

Synopsis: Renfield, Dracula’s henchman and inmate at the lunatic asylum for decades, longs for a life away from the Count, his various demands, and all of the bloodshed that comes with them.


The problem with Renfield doesn’t lie entirely with the filmmakers. It lies in the saturation of marketing that the film received. Two large action set pieces are prominent in every trailer the film had and are a shrug when the extended versions show up in the film. If you were seeing an R rated feature, it’s likely you got the red band version of the trailer, which gave an idea of the buckets of CGI blood involved in those set pieces and realized as you watch the full film that there isn’t more exsanguination than that. These trailers played so often that most of us could see every beat of every scene right before it happened. So if you were one of those that saw a few movies in a theater toward the end of last year, or into this one, you won’t be surprised at all.

Because what wasn’t shown in the trailers is rather dull. Renfield (Nicholas Hoult) as a character isn’t very interesting. The parts of the film that attempt to give him nuance or backstory or a character arc are tepid. The characters that surround him are also ho hum given only one dimension to exist in. There are no stakes beyond something on the surface and that often gets buried in the excess of the violence.

Renfield would have been a lot more interesting if the filmmakers could have kept to practical effects. Yes, buckets of fake blood can be goofy, but at least the characters are actually covered in something. After one bloody brawl, Renfield and Rebecca (Awkwafina) walk away nearly clean in spite of the startling amount of spray that was taking place. It looked far goofier as a digital creation than something that could conceivably come from brutal mutilation. The film, as it continues, is one predictable point after another. This film really had so much promise in its beginning.

The opening narrative scene as Renfield describes to the audience how he made his way into Dracula’s (Nicolas Cage) employ is really well done. Director Chris McKay and cinematographer Mitchell Amundsen recreated several pivotal scenes from the 1931 Dracula. They’re lovingly rendered and elevate some of the scenes with modern techniques. Cage’s Bela Lugosi impersonation is just perfect.

If this film has redeeming qualities it’s in Nicolas Cage’s performance. From the stellar costumes by Lisa Lovass to the gruesome makeup and hair pieces by Corinne Foster, Miki Caporusso, Robin Myriah Hatcher, and their teams, everything about Dracula was fantastic. It would have been so much more enjoyable to see a full film of just this Dracula. Yes, we’ve seen Dracula dozens of times, but there is a beautiful alchemy between Cage’s gonzo approach and this titanic character. It would even have been more enjoyable to have a shot for shot remake of the 1931 version because Cage’s energy would have been something to behold with some of those dramatic moments.

Dracula is woefully underused in Renfield. It’s obvious why writer Ryan Ridley chose to highlight Renfield. It’s obvious why the filmmakers didn’t want to make just another Dracula story. Yet, it’s not obvious why they dug so shallowly into who Renfield might actually be. Renfield wants to be cool and it wants us to think it’s cool, different, and edgy, but it fails. There’s a reason Dracula has endured and why we haven’t felt the need to be familiar with Renfield before.

Grade: D

Movie Review: ‘Evil Dead Rise’ is a Blood-Stained Treat For Gore Hounds


Director: Lee Cronin

Writer: Lee Cronin

Stars: Mirabai Pease, Richard Crouchley, Anna-Maree Thomas

Synopsis: A twisted tale of two estranged sisters whose reunion is cut short by the rise of flesh-possessing demons, thrusting them into a primal battle for survival as they face the most nightmarish version of family imaginable.


Meatheads and gore-hounds rejoice! Lee Cronin’s Evil Dead Rise is a bloodstained and adrenaline-fueled funhouse of crazed horror delights that references the franchise’s past, while introducing new maneuvers that make it stand out on its own. Whether or not you are a fan of The Evil Dead, there’s plenty to relish in the latest installment. In the words of Ash J. Williams, this film is “groovy”. 

Almost forty-two years have passed since the horror-comedy staple The Evil Dead was released, created by the mad genius Sam Raimi. This franchise has revolutionized the horror and comedy (and everything in between) genres to the point that filmmakers need to tip their hats in honor of the American director. It’s genuinely awe-inspiring how Raimi managed to create something so frightening and howl-inducing at the same time, while still being innovative in terms of story and directorial vision. Sure, it borrows from the narrative aesthetics of the “cabin in the woods” movies. But what lies within such a cabin, and the classic hero in the middle, Ash J. Williams (Bruce Campbell), are very innovative and clever; the lore behind the evils conjured in those woods (the Necronomicon, Deadites, The Kandarian Dagger) makes us eager to learn more about them. And when you add Raimi’s distinctive style of slapstick-like crashing maneuvers into the mix, the result is something ever-lasting. 

In 2013, Fede Álvarez helmed a remake of the original Evil Dead films, and, in my honest opinion, it was pretty disappointing. While it contained a high degree of grueling visuals and tried to implement a new story surrounding drug addiction (and going cold turkey), the film ended up feeling incomplete because it missed the mark on the comedic factors of the franchise. After that film, I thought there wouldn’t be another installment due to the mixed reception and the cancellation of the Ash vs. The Evil Dead series. It made plenty of money at the box office, yet, I felt that we were beginning to the end of this franchise I’m a big fan of. However, ten years after Álvarez’s feature, Lee Cronin arrives with Evil Dead Rise – a brutal reinvention of the decades-spanning franchise while still giving nods to the past and other 80s genre classics (The Shining, Society, Pieces). Initially, this film was going to be a straight-to-streaming release, but thank heavens that the people in charge got their heads straight. 

A curtain raiser sets up a similar premise to what we expect from an Evil Dead film, the classic cabin in the woods setting where evil lurks in every corner (even in the depths of the ocean). It encapsulates a familiar tension and horror setup that basically defined the franchise. But after some gnarly action involving a drone and head scalping, Lee Cronin switches the scene; from the woods, we go into a deteriorated high-rise Los Angeles apartment. In such an apartment, a mother, Ellie (Alyssa Sutherland), lives with her three children – Danny, Bridget, and Kassie (Morgan Davies, Gabrielle Echols, and Nell Fisher) – and she’s trying to piece together her life after a series of events that turned her family’s life upside down. Her sister Beth (Lily Sullivan), who has recently discovered that she’s pregnant, has arrived for a surprise visit after taking a break from touring with a rock band as a guitar technician (not as a groupie). 

As a means to heal the wounds of the past, Beth being estranged from her sister for a long while now, Ellie asks the kids to go out and grab a pizza from the nearby local. Once they arrive, a high-magnitude earthquake hits, cracking open the ground with several crevices around, one of them revealing an abandoned bank vault from the old times. Danny curiously jumps into the hole to see what he can find. And wouldn’t you know it, he finds some old vinyl records alongside one of the volumes of the Necronomicon (aka. the Book of the Dead). The aspiring DJ plays the tunes of malevolence, in which a group of priests reads a passage from the book. And immediately, things take a turn for the worse. The evil presence possesses dear Ellie and turns her into a manic soul-hungry Deadite who wants to rip her kids apart into little pieces. Welcome to Lee Cronin’s carnival of horror delights, where the laughs are delivered in equal measure as blood and guts are spilled into the screen. 

Unlike the first film in the franchise, which talked about the fixation with darkness and death, Evil Dead Rise is a story about motherhood – how to roll with the punches of maternity when your life is crashing down. You can even say that the evils chasing Beth are a personification of her worries about being a mother, each one getting worse to recap the stages of life, from the shining bright light of birth to eventual death. You get glimpses of Beth feeling the baby inside her, more so when malevolence is eating the world around her, right until the last act, when her acute maternal instincts click to save the day. Most of this is up to interpretation because the film isn’t totally interested in exploring all of this. This may be a fault in another film, but since the Irish filmmaker’s vision of an Evil Dead movie is so pulsating and bloody good fun, it isn’t bothersome. One just rolls with it from beginning to end. 

In Evil Dead Rise, Lee Cronin uses every single inch of its location to its highest potential. From using everyday objects as murderous weapons – the first one that comes to mind is a cheese grater – to implementing a claustrophobic environment, the viewer gets a sensation that there’s no sense of escape. This heightens its sinister atmosphere to a delightful degree. The change of scenery from the cabin in the woods to a high-rise apartment creates a more profound sense of chaos that arises as the minutes pass. “Everyone here dies by dawn”, says Deadite Ellie at one point in the film, and it certainly feels like this is so. The characters, both kids and adults, go through traumatizing events that make your stomach churn if you are not too accustomed to seeing significant amounts of gore on the big screen. If you are a gore-hound or meathead (such as I), you will have an evil grin throughout the entire ninety-seven minutes of the film’s runtime. 

It’s almost a sadistic experience; while gruesome acts are happening on-screen, the Deadites enjoy being the vilest and most cruel people in the world. And it’s so entertaining to watch because of the performances by the excellent cast. Nevertheless, Alyssa Sutherland, with her malicious grin and crimson red hair, is the one who stands out from the bunch as the leading Deadite in the marching band of death. Sutherland quickly switches from a disturbing demonic persona to soothing motherly care with ease. She isn’t afraid to go all out and embrace the rampaging comedic excessiveness of these possessive demons, adding more terrifying layers to the film. You just wish you could see her for a couple more hours due to her being so energetic and exhilarating. On the other hand, her counterpart Lily Sullivan is a badass final girl whose presence is more than a stand-in for Bruce Campbell’s Ash Williams. Sure, she wields a shotgun and chainsaw just as the classic hero, but she makes the character her own, and the audience cares about her. Seeing them go head to head throughout the film was just a horror genre blessing. 

The practical effects and makeup teams deserve multiple rounds of applause because they made everything feel so tactile. Cronin makes sure that the audience feels every single stabbing, piercing, and shot to the possessed meat-sacks in Evil Dead Rise, whether by closeups of the damage being done or just letting the camera linger to show the beauty behind tangible monstrosities – something that CGI or high-budgeted visual effects cannot capture. And that also includes the gallons upon gallons of blood raining down on the cast and crew. Blood is spilled in so much quantity that the audience leaves the theater seemingly drenched in it as well. There’s something so fascinating about creating something that you can sense its presence and feel that it is real rather than just a conjuring from a computer screen. That was one of my problems with another recent horror release, Renfield, which falsely promoted itself as a gore-fest with some comedic chops. But instead, it was filled with poor CGI decapitations and arm rippings; even the blood was a visual effect. 

From the get-go, you notice that Lee Cronin has a close attachment to the Evil Dead franchise, referencing the original two pictures with Raimi-like shots captured by cinematographer Dave Garbett, classic quippy lines, iconic weapons, and even some slapstick comedy bits. Unlike Álvarez, Cronin embraces the past while moving forward with a new story. It is a bold swing to switch things up. Yet, taking the pandemic under consideration, the restrictive and claustrophobic setting paves the way for something more wicked to arrive as the clock keeps ticking. I was ecstatic to see this film, and I’m so glad it didn’t end up disappointing me like other horror releases in the 2020s (cough, cough… Last Night in Soho and The Black Phone). Having watched Evil Dead Rise twice already (and I’m planning to see it a third time), I can say that the fun doesn’t diminish; you continue to be entranced by the gore and splatter in the same amount you laugh at the jokes and quips. Does this film beat Evil Dead 2? Of course not. But is it the third best? Absolutely!

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Seriously Red’ is a Feel Good Affair


Director: Gracie Otto

Writers: Krew Boylan

Stars: Krew Boylan, Daniel Webber, Rose Byrne

Synopsis: A realtor pursues a new career as a Dolly Parton impersonator.


In America, it is practically impossible to find someone who doesn’t truly love Dolly Parton.  She’s more than a singer-songwriter. Dolly is a true icon. The film Seriously Red, directed by Gracie Otto, and starring Krew Bolan and Bobby Canavale, shows audiences that Dolly is as much of an icon in Australia and the rest of the world as she is in the United States. The film delves into the sub-culture of celebrity impersonators, as well as the lengths people will go through to achieve stardom and success.

Red (Bolan), is a quirky woman working in real estate at the start of the film. She is funny and refreshing, but yes, there are those who find her obsession with Dolly Parton a bit strange. She gets fired early in the film for her frequent inappropriate behavior at parties when she drinks. We see a young Red dressing up as Parton, and continues to do so as she gets older. She performs for co-workers and friends. Her mother doesn’t understand her.  Her best friend, Francis, always encourages her to be herself. Red gets fired from her real-estate job, and she begins making a living as a Dolly Parton impersonator. Red loses herself as she completely changes her life to become her idol. She has a relationship with a Kenny Rogers impersonator. She drives away her friends and family, and realizes that she needs to find out who she is, and forget trying to become someone else.

The supporting cast added a great deal to the charm of this film. Thomas Campbell plays Red’s best friend, Francis. The two have terrific chemistry, and their relationship was one of the highlights of the film. He is the only person who truly sees Red for all that she is. He loves the real Red, and is saddened as she begins to fade away and become Dolly all the time. Honestly, if there had been a sitcom in the 1990s about these two, it would have been a huge success. Danny Webber plays Kenny, a Kenny Rogers impersonator, who encourages Red to completely lose herself into the role of Dolly. Red and Kenny DO become successful. They travel around the world. Red is finally a success, rather than a joke at the office. But at what price? Who is the real Red?

As a fan of Dolly Parton, I find this movie to be infinitely charming. I love films about quirky characters, and Red is about as quirky as it gets. You feel for her when people find her weird and laugh at her. But, she also has a great deal of confidence to go out in the world and put herself out there to entertain people. The film is peppered with quotes from Queen Dolly herself, which shows the deep appreciation the writer clearly has for her. Bolan is delightful and relatable, as a woman who is looking for something bigger in life, bigger than her office job where everyone treats her like a joke. She finds and then loses herself as a Dolly Parton impersonator. My favorite part of the movie, however, is the always wonderful Bobby Canavale. I never knew how much I needed to see him sing “I Am, I Said” as a Neil Diamond impersonator. 

All in all, this is a sweet, funny, and enjoyable movie. The performances are entertaining and the story is one that most of us can relate to.  Is it groundbreaking? No. But if you are looking for a movie that will make you laugh, feel good, and you enjoy Dolly Parton (who doesn’t), this will be an enjoyable film for you.

Grade: C

Movie Review: ‘Rye Lane’ is a Smartly Written and Affectionate Rom-Com


Director: Raine Allen-Miller

Writers: Nathan Byron and Tom Melia

Stars: David Jonsson, Vivian Oparah, Poppy Allen-Quarmby

Synopsis: Two youngsters reeling from bad breakups who connect over an eventful day in South-London.


From the get-go, Rye Lane is almost too predictable. Dom (David Jonsson) can’t get over his breakup with Gia (Karene Peter) and sobs uncontrollably in a unisex bathroom stall. Hearing him drown his sorrows, Yas (Vivian Oparah) asks Dom if he’s alright, and the blossoming of a romance forms before us. Director Raine Allen-Miller knows that you know how the film will end: with the two characters madly in love with one another. It’s a story told repeatedly, and it’s part of why Rye Lane can only reach a certain high. However, Allen-Miller crafts such an intricately developed romance, with innovative filmmaking techniques and two incredible, star-making performances from its leads, that you can’t help but walk away from the movie with a huge smile. 

It’s even more impressive that Allen-Miller can craft such a rich romance with such a short runtime. Without credits, Rye Lane clocks in at only 77 minutes. How can she construct such a richly-developed romance with a thin runtime? Easy. She doesn’t waste time in getting the characters together. Then she builds on their relationship as they meet-cute through short flashbacks, cuts in time, and several situations where they have to pretend to have a “deeper” relationship than they have with themselves. These elements help develop the characters and create a relationship that doesn’t feel as surface-level or unnatural as many rom-coms seem to these days. Your Place or Mine is almost two hours long, and there isn’t a single scene where the leads have a sense of chemistry together. 

Rye Lane barely has a feature-length runtime, and each lead is properly developed and brilliantly acted. The movie wouldn’t have been as good without Jonsson and Oparah’s lead performances. Oparah, in particular, delivers a sharply-funny turn as Yas and develops her more ironic banter and outlook on a past relationship through Dom’s problems with his ex-girlfriend, who cheated on him with his best friend (brilliantly played by Benjamin Sarpong-Broni). The supporting cast is also excellent, with minor but effective performances that make its world feel more complete. Allen Miller doesn’t need to spend much time with the supporting cast, as this is a film about Dom and Yas, but they are also extremely important to how the film’s world feels quirky and lived in. 

A particular highlight is one scene in which Dom and Yas visit Jules’ (Malcolm Atobrah, playing Yas’ ex-boyfriend) family. One member breaks into a song for no reason, and it’s the most genuinely heartfelt moment of any movie I’ve seen in 2023 thus far. There’s even an unexpected cameo from an A-list star of British cinema that perfectly describes the movie’s self-referential and witty tone. However, I won’t dare spoil who it is, though Twitter probably has, but if you haven’t been spoiled, and are planning to watch the film, don’t look it up! It’s genuinely one of the most surprising cameo appearances of the year so far and feels in line with the aesthetic and visual dynamism the movie brings. 

Of course, with such a short runtime, one expects Rye Lane to move forward swiftly, which it does. Its editing is fast-paced, and the movie’s cinematography is incredibly lively, going from fish-eye lenses, split-diopters, and a visual palette filled with neon colors and expressive hues. It’s a great way to quickly immerse the audience into the film and hook them from beginning to end. Could it have used more meat around the bone? Sure. Its plot should’ve been less conventional, too. Still, Allen-Miller more than makes up for its storytelling inconsistencies by getting two incredible lead performances, an inventive visual style, and incredibly quirky humor. It never overstays its welcome, which is rare in romantic comedies. If you’re looking for something light to watch on streaming, don’t hesitate to watch Rye Lane immediately.

Grade: B+

Movie Review: ‘Suzume’ is Shinkai’s Most Ambitious, and Best, Work


Director: Makoto Shinkai

Writer: Makoto Shinkai

Stars: Nanoka Hara, Hokutu Matsumara, Eri Fukatsu

Synopsis: A modern action adventure road story where a 17-year-old girl named Suzume helps a mysterious young man close doors from the other side that are releasing disasters all over in Japan.


With a magnificent animation team and a blend of melancholic and humorous tone shifts, Makoto Shinkai delivers his best work to date with Suzume. This film takes apart his usual directing trademarks to pursue a mature (and personal) version of the stories we have seen from him before. 

There haven’t been many animated films lately that have blown me away. As the years pass, the less impressive the majority have been. The big guys, such as Illumination and Disney, dominate this genre. It has caused other interesting works to have limited time in the spotlight as general audiences tend to seek out the aforementioned companies’ filmographies more so than the smaller ones. This decade so far has been mediocre when it comes to animated flicks, but, at the very least, there are quite a few surprising and marvelous films – Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio, Unicorn Wars, Wolfwalkers, and FLEE. Those films demonstrate the creative and innovative things a filmmaker can do with the genre instead of doing the same just to fit the mold or current trend. Another movie can be added to that short list of films, and that is Makoto Shinkai’s latest work, Suzume, which, in my honest opinion, is better (and more ambitious) than his record-breaking box-office mega-hit, Your Name (2016) – the film that put his name on the map for audiences worldwide. 

Makoto Shinkai is known for creating emotional and beautifully animated pieces that dwell within magical realism and fantasy realms. And with Suzume, the Japanese filmmaker continues his trend of delivering melancholic tunes to his stories about young love and trauma while intertwining them with natural disasters – in this case, the Tōhoku Earthquake and Tsunami of 2011 – and daydream essences. The film is titled after its main character, Suzume (Nanoka Hara), a 17-year-old girl who lives with her aunt Tamaki (Eri Fukatsu) in the south of Japan. She has plenty of people that care about her, but Suzume always keeps them at a certain distance. Suzume is distant from those she cares about due to her mother’s passing twelve years earlier during the Tōhoku disaster. Her loss still pierces her soul; a melancholic cloud floats around her head as she can’t shake the feeling that she’s gone. 

As Suzume walks to school one day, she comes across a mysterious young man named Souta (Hokuto Matsumura), who’s asking for the location of a magical door in a nearby ruin. Of course, Suzume knows where the door is located and, because she’s attracted to him, goes along the journey that she’d never expected to be on – the door is a portal into another world. Frightened by such a reveal, she decides to head back to school. Later, everyone’s phone explodes with earthquake alarms; Suzume looks out of the window and sees a giant red monster ascending into the sky. That benign creature is a supernatural force that’s the main cause behind Japan’s natural disasters. And since Suzume curiously opened the door (and didn’t close it afterward in fear), it managed to escape into the real world. As a “gift” for helping it escape, the creature turns Souta into a three-legged wooden chair – the last memento Suzume has from her childhood before her mother’s passing. 

In pure Shinkai fashion filled with lovely moments, fantasy sequences, and beautiful animation, the two strangers turned journey travelers go around Japan trying to catch a cat that can lift Sota’s curse and close the portal doors, stopping the monster before it destroys the city. His blend of CG and hand-drawn animation just takes your breath away, leaving the viewer in awe of seeing a master at work. Instead of sticking to one Japanese region, specifically the metropolitan area, Shinkai decides to visit multiple locations by implementing a “road trip” movie scenario where the characters are forced to branch out elsewhere for their respective journeys. Because of this, Shinkai and his animators get to show various vistas and locations ranging from smaller villages to countryside plains. Those shots are beautiful and sharply vivid, but the most enthralling ones are those of human connection – scenes where subtlety is crucial, and every emotion is tactile. 

Coping with trauma and love amidst loss are the main themes scattered through Suzume’s narrative, as there is an intertwining between a sensation of dread and the willingness for hope – emotion and heartbreak tied together. The film also illustrates how the world has changed around you when tragedy strikes by showing us abandoned amusement parks and other torn-down places that haven’t been rebuilt since the big earthquake. These scenes where Suzume looks at the decaying abandoned locations around her add a melancholic tone without a single line being spoken, almost like a ghost story. Despite the darker tone of the story, in comparison with his other features, this is still a Makoto Shinkai film full in full, but with a defined earnest and dramatic flair attached to it. One of the main reasons Suzume works is that it’s never overly sentimental nor reaches a melodramatic tone when approaching those true-to-life narrative scenarios. 

The blend of tones – a love story to a fantasy battle sequence, exploration of trauma to comedic quips – might cause some viewers to lose patience, as Shinkai is tackling concepts with bigger heft and uniting them with his usual narrative tendencies. Yet, if you can keep on the film’s wavelength, the result is his best and most personal work ever. Humor and melancholy are ever prescient; you laugh at its comedic and cute segments, later to weep in its emotional catharsis of saddened hymns. Shinkai’s storytelling prowess is manifested through imaginative visualizations of these intersections between longing and cessation. This paves the way for some of the most captivating and detailed images in modern Japanese animation. Its interconnection with an array of emotions reminds me of Studio Ghibli pictures, Shinkai often referencing a couple of master Hayao Miyazaki’s films – Kiki’s Delivery Service, Spirited Away, and Castle in the Sky in particular. 

While there are still some cringe-worthy lines in Makoto Shinkai’s screenplay, stating that he still hasn’t been able to shake off his most prominent narrative fault, Suzume still feels like his most mature work. The impact it brings depends on how much you connect with the characters and the willingness of the viewer to dwell in Shinkai’s directorial ambitiousness. I found it richer in terms of his thematics and storytelling composition than his previous features, as the topics are elaborated upon in a manner that he isn’t used to doing, even if it still has Shinkai’s trademarks. As the titular character wanders through the various doorways scattered across Japan, the film shifts itself into a territory where the real and fantastical all blend together, creating an experience that hooks you from beginning to end. Whether or not Shinkai will best himself after Suzume is yet to be seen. But I’m excited to see an extraordinary filmmaker generating a ripe technique years into his beloved work.

Grade: B+

Episode 577: The Ghostbusters Legacy

This week’s episode is brought to you by Koffee Kult. Get 15% OFF with the code: ISF

This week on the InSession Film Podcast, Tim Costa (formally of First Time Watchers) fills in for Brendan this week as we discuss the legacy of Ghostbusters and why there may not be an appetite for the franchise anymore! Plus, a few thoughts on The Crow trailer.

Check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!

The Crow Trailer (5:45)
The original Crow film is obviously marred by the Brandon Lee tragedy, but the film was a decent financial success and has gained a cult following since its release. There have been several sequels made since then and none of them very good. So here we are now, 20 years after the release of Lee’s film, and we are getting a remake starring Bill Skarsgård. We got our first peek this last week and spend a few minutes talking about the trailer for The Crow.


RELATED: Listen to Episode 516 of the InSession Film Podcast where we discussed our Top 10 Movies of 2023!


– Ghostbusters Legacy (44:25)
This weekend we’ll be getting Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire hitting theaters, so we thought now was an appropriate time to talk about the Ghostbusters franchise and its legacy. The first film is hailed as a comedy classic, but what about the rest of them? The 1989 sequel is perhaps underrated, while the 2016 remake and 2021 legacy-sequel have many questioning the direction of the franchise. As great as Ghostbusters 1984 is with many fans; is there really an appetite for these films in 2024? We talk about all these things and more in our conversation.

– Music
Ghostbusters – Ray Parker, Jr.
Ghostbusters (Epic) – Epic Trailer Music

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InSession Film Podcast – Episode 577

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Oscars Reactions: Inspiring Women, Underdogs, and International Blood

So the award season went and came by, like waves on a shore. And I found myself thinking;

What a ride it has been!

Why was this particular award season so special that the 2024 Academy Awards ceremony became the most-watched Oscars since 2020?

And why was I cheering on winners and mourning losers like it was some local soccer game? (Yes, we love soccer where I’m from, but we call it football)

Was it Ryan Gosling’s “I’m Just Ken” –one of the Academy Award Best Original Song nominees- where he retrieved a childhood dream of being a pop star, probably one that he slowly gave up over the years, shedding his early days of the Mickey Mouse Club behind where he smoothed his way as a kid mimicking adults in an iconic dance wearing silver hammer pants?

Or was it Da’Vine Joy Randolph winning Best Supporting Actress for her spectacular performance in The Holdovers? Da’Vine –two years older than me- bawled her eyes out, stating things relevant to women like me all over the world. How she felt seen for winning this award, and what moments throughout her career made her feel that way. It resonated with me, as an international female film critic struggling to be recognized; not othered, leaving a mark on the world, and realizing how much I needed more Da’Vines winning and appearing on screens to send me uplifting messages. If there was hope for them, so was it for me, too. Not to mention how heightened the moment’s beauty felt on screen with a supportive coworker like Paul Giamatti, tearing up during her speech, even though he didn’t win, but how a sense of family could be born in the workplace, and people could cheer each other on for wins, rather than resort to envy and jealousy.

When Martin Scorsese rubbed Lily Gladstone’s back after her loss of the Best Actress award, it felt like a comfort during hard times, how sometimes even when I lose, I would need that comforting hand, that “we believe in you” sense of solidarity, and watching those grand celebrities in such delicate, intimate moment that made them feel relevant and more approachable to us, wasn’t as corny as I thought it would be.

It felt terrific to see the animators and staff from The Boy and The Heron –which won this year’s Academy Award for Best Animated Feature- tear up at their win. I retweeted my Asian friends gushing over the moment, and my fellow Hayao Miyazaki fans enthralled and celebrated over his newest win. It all made me realize how connected the current award season made us feel rather than separated and isolated in desolate islands, how world leaders and governments probably intended us to be, then came the power of the arts and wiped that all away. The Boy and the Heron brought such a legendary win to the table –after his last win in 2005 for Spirited Away– Miyazaki has been creating magic in Studio Ghibli for years but has always been overshadowed by Disney and Pixar and the more Westernized animation studios. With his second win yesterday with a potent rival contender such as Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse, The Academy showed a hint of the change that dominated it, yes there still were many years before the scary Whiteness of the Academy would drift away with the current, but there were many familiar faces and familiar wins.

Speaking of representation, it was a delight to spot Ramy Youssef, an Egyptian American comedian get so far into Hollywood, bonding with Mark Ruffalo and speaking his heart on the Academy red carpet without getting booed or gaslit, made me proud of him. As an Egyptian, I felt like cheering on a buddy who co-starred next to the legendary Emma Stone, Willem Dafoe, and Ruffalo in Poor Things, one of the most successful and critically acclaimed films of 2023. Ramy’s talent being recognized and appreciated gave me a boost of positivity, and I hoped for bigger comedic leading roles for him. I also wished I would always see a familiar face on the red carpet; the more diverse, the better, and the more connected an individual like me feels to a grander, far-off world like the Academy Awards. 

As someone whose life was dominated by art and literature when she was a child, watching Ludwig Göransson who won the Academy Award for best score for his spectacular work in Oppenheimer thank his parents for giving him musical instruments instead of video games hit home closely. And when I read social media discourse of people hating on him because what he said undermined the beauty of video games or belittled those who enjoyed playing them, I fell in love with him a little more. I needed that sense of familiarity. I’ve always felt like an alien in my kid’s skin. Listening to Göransson, whose childhood was probably as art-engulfed and introverted as mine, allowed me to look back at my parents doing this for me with pride rather than regret all the moments of belonging I missed with other kids.

As a chronic online presence –valid for a writer/introvert who traded a tumultuous life for a milder, calmer one with a peaceful presence- it was a surprise to see year after year, people flooding to discuss the award season, cheering or booing like it’s a football game. Sometimes it gets out of hand, and admittedly people nitpick on every breath a winner or a loser takes, but it’s fun to watch; a way to reinterpret reality, movie by movie, performance by performance.

Does this mean filmmaking will turn into a spectacle? Hasn’t it been for a long time? It’s just that now the chronically online population is growing day in and out, and the Gen Zers fight with the growing older population for a place on the platforms, each adding their two cents to every current topic, or even making up one out of the ashes. We live in a connected world in which award seasons have become much like sports seasons with all the ins and outs of films, filmmakers, and in-betweens. Show business is no exception. It is a well-oiled machine that adapts to changing times and grows from there, whether we like it or not, and that is what ensures its long-term viability. So for award seasons to become these heated debates of who deserves it and who doesn’t; each season with a villain, a laughing stock of the crowd, a hero, a princess, a diva, and a bad girl, is the new normal.

Movie Review: ‘Little Wing’ Crashes into Tropes


Director: Dean Israelite
Writers: John Gatins, Susan Orlean
Stars: Brooklynn Prince, Simon Khan, Kelly Reilly

Synopsis: Follows a 13-year-old girl who is dragged into the world of pigeon racing as she deals with her parents’ divorce and the impending loss of her home.


Little Wing is a classic case of a coming-of-age film that doesn’t quite know what it truly wants to be. Sure, you’ll enjoy the punk rock Generation Alpha main character, who is energetic, lively, and spirited. You may appreciate how the story involves an unusual hobby to help an adolescent navigate a turbulent time—even the bond of the mother-daughter relationship. However, the premise surrounding the bond between an unlikely friendship between a child and an older adult male fails the film almost entirely. 

And that’s a shame because the streaming Paramount+ film Little Wing had real feel-good potential. 

The story follows Kaitlyn McKay (Brooklynn Prince), a young woman whose moodiness we have come to find charming. Kaitlyn is going through a tough time. Her parents have just divorced, and her father has moved out. Her older brother, Matt (newcomer Simon Khan), hasn’t spoken since it happened. Their mother, Maddie (Kelly Reilly), is a police detective in the Portland, Oregon area and has trouble making ends meet, specifically with the mortgage payment. 

Maddie’s boss, rather strangely, gives Kaitlyn some racing pigeons as a gift. Yeah, this is a girl who has posters of Major Motoko Kusanagi and Hit-Girl Mindy Macready. Besides offering her a cell phone or sacrificing Regina to the Mean Girls, nothing will win her over. However, her best friend, Adam (Me Time’s Che Tafari), tells her how cool they are, and a famous one called “The Guardian” is in the area and is worth $100,000. What a coincidence! It would cover the entire loan left on her childhood home.

Little Wing was directed by Dean Israelite (Are You Afraid of the Dark?), who works with a script from a surprising pedigree. It was penned by Academy Award-nominated scribe John Gatins (Flight), who adapted the film from a news article by Susan Orlean, the writer of The Orchid Thief, whose book served as the source material for Charlie Kaufman’s Adaptation. Initially, the film functions as a coming-of-age black teen comedy, highlighting Prince’s Kaitlyn and her bold, rebellious attitude. This includes a humorous scene where she volunteers as a human dodgeball sacrifice in gym class.

Another noteworthy scene involves her stealing The Guardian from its owner, Jaan Vari (Brian Cox). While this action may seem outlandish, it’s forgivable given the context of the fact that this is a narrative film. However, Jaan discovers evidence implicating Kaitlyn and Adam in the theft of the prized bird, as these situations tend to go. While I can suspend disbelief for the sake of comedy, it becomes pretty absurd when Kaitlyn sells the bird to the Russian mafia, who have a penchant for pigeon racing. For $25,000, it’s peculiar how Little Wing’s story decides to convey the idea that it takes a village to raise a child.

Then, Jaan approaches the little thief’s home. Instead of explaining to the mother, he finds a bag with the daughter’s name and address. Does he tell Maggie he saw them, including Adam, and now the bird is missing? No, he keeps the ruse, telling the mother that she reached out to the old man and he was returning the garment bag. Does Maggie question this as a woman in blue and as a mother? No, she will never qualify for officer or mother of the year.

Then, Jaan’s wife knows the girl stole the bird but is grateful they can move to Arizona. These people live in an apartment with pigeon coops on the roof. Do they not need $125,000 for retirement or bills? Jaan, who is understandably upset, frequently snaps at Kaitlyn and towers over her, demanding the bird back, but when Maggie walks in the room, Jaan plays it off that he is just arranging a time for him and Kaitlyn to meet up. My God, is there no social worker in the Portland area? There are subplots, such as when attempting to steal The Guardian back, where no one is worried about CCTV or the fact that the Mafia just allows the bandits to leave.

Little Wing is a family film for those who don’t put too much stock into detail, which is fine. However, while hardly offensive, the film really teaches poor values, like it’s fine to steal and befriend strangers you don’t know and then lie to your parents. Yes, there are some heart-tugging moments, but overall, the experience lacks thoughtfulness and replaces it with patronizing manipulation. 

Grade: C-

Women InSession: International Film Oscar Nominations

This week on Women InSession, in the spirit of the Oscars, we take a look at the International Film Oscar and talk about the process in how they’re selected, and the quality of nominations in recent years! There’s been some phenmonal international films over the years. Some of them make the cut. Others somehow miss. So we dive into how that makes it one of the more compelling categories at the Oscars.

Panel: Kristin Battestella, Shadan Larki, Brian Susbielles

On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!

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Women InSession – Episode 76

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Episode 576: Recapping the 96th Academy Awards

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This week on the InSession Film Podcast, Brian Rowe joins JD to recap this year’s Oscars and the great winners of the 96th Academy Awards! It was a show with everything. John Cena was naked. John Mulaney broke down Field of Dreams. Al Pacino lost his mind. Ryan Gosling brought the house down. The winners were great. Lots to talk about with the Oscars this year!

Check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!

– Oscars Reactions Part 1 (5:45)
To begin, we talk about the ceremony and why the flow was quite good for a broadcast that lasted over three hours. We, of course, break down Best Actress and talk about the wild discourse that followed. Christopher Nolan finally gets his first Oscar and Oppenheimer will go down as an all-time great Best Picture winner.


RELATED: Listen to Episode 516 of the InSession Film Podcast where we discussed our Top 10 Movies of 2023!


– Oscars Reactions Part 2 (44:25)
In the back half of the show, we continue talking about the Oscars with The Zone of Interest winning Best Sound – one of the most inspired wins in The Academy’s history. We talk about the greatness of The Boy and the Heron winning Animated. We also talk about Poor Things sweeping Costumes, Production Design and Make-Up, and so much more. What was your favorite win at the Oscars this year?

– Music
Can You Hear The Music – Ludwig Göransson
What Was I Made For? – Billie Eilish

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InSession Film Podcast – Episode 576

Next week on the show:

Ghostbusters Retrospective

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Oscars 2024: A Reaction

Another Oscars has come and gone. Many laughs and many tears as well as a beautiful moment of an entire room of professionals collectively deciding Jimmy Kimmel has overstayed his welcome. He won us over with a setup and lost us with a disappointing punchline. It was a bit of whiplash as Kimmel received boos at his shot at SAG president Fran Drescher, while then getting cheers for talking about solidarity between the unions. Maybe the Academy should give no host a shot again or find writers who have better knowledge of movies rather than just knowledge of mistakes celebrities have made in the past. It was utterly painful to watch as Kimmel couldn’t land his joke and kept needling Robert Downey Jr. about his past behavior.

In spite of Kimmel’s bland attempts and uncomfortable sexual harassment of Ryan Gosling, the show was pretty enjoyable. Many presenter jokes didn’t land, but were still charming, like Octavia Spencer and Melissa McCarthy’s double act. There was also the Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny Devito bit. It was GREAT, especially as they brought in Michael Keaton, who deliciously mugged at the two actors who have played Batman villains. Though when the two men got to the actual presentation, they lost some steam and had a hard time getting it back. 

The best of the best were those fully committed to their bit and transitioned seamlessly to the presentation. John Cena walked out naked to present the award for Best Costumes. Kate McKinnon and America Ferrera’s presentation for the Documentary categories included a terrific bit about Jurassic Park that included a very game Steven Speilberg. John Mulaney pontificated on the strange rules of ghost baseball before he presented Best Sound. Ryan Gosling and Emily Blunt squashed the Barbenheimer beef while stealthily promoting their upcoming movie The Fall Guy, about a stuntman in the wrong place at the wrong time, with a clip package of excellent stunt work from the year.

This year also brought back a sweet presentation of five past winners presenting each of the acting awards. Some of the pairs of presenter and nominee were incredibly poignant, others made the best of their very wordy material that some of them had a hard time getting through. A terrific highlight was Sam Rockwell presenting to Robert Downey, Jr. with Downey’s famous line from Tropic Thunder, his last nomination, about not dropping character until the DVD commentary. Nicolas Cage was an odd choice for Paul Giamatti, but like all the others he was given a perfect connection to his gonzo method with Giamatti’s willingness to wear a contact that would mimic a lazy eye.

It’s hard to pick a winner’s speech to highlight as most of them were funny, humane, and absolutely tear jerking. Da’Vine Joy Randolph brought tears to us all and a camera even caught a solitary tear coming down Paul Giamatti’s cheek. Randolph also started the running joke of the night of thanking a publicist. Cord Jefferson gave the rallying cry to studios that one $200 million dollar movie is the same risk as 20 $10 million movies, encouraging them to take more chances. Documentary feature winner Mstyslav Chernov impactfully reminded us that he wishes his feature didn’t exist as it chronicles the ongoing suffering of the people of Ukraine in their struggle against Russian aggression. Johnathan Glazer in his acceptance of the award for International Feature Film gave a stirring address about the parallels of complacency with atrocity in his film, The Zone of Interest, and what is occurring in Gaza as the Israeli military attempts retribution for the terrorist action perpetuated by the Hamas group on October 7th.

The speech that surprised and delighted us all, even herself, was from Emma Stone. After she won her second career Oscar in the highly competitive Best Actress race, she began with a little self-deprecation about her broken zipper and a quick zinger that it obviously happened during “I’m Just Ken.” She then gave us the incredible awww of describing how much she loves her daughter. It’s this kind of spontaneous, genuine moment that makes the Oscars worth watching.

That and they can still pull off a truly spectacular scripted moment. Love Barbie, hate Barbie, indifferent toward Barbie, it can’t be denied that the performance of “I’m Just Ken” was all killer and no filler. It brought the house down if not only for an A-list, nominated actor putting his whole self into his performance, but also bringing in surprise after surprise. Kens from the film! Mark Ronson rocking a pink shirt and guitar! Audience participation! SLASH SHREDDING HIS AX!! The nominated songs this year were an eclectic bunch, the performances were well done by all and this was just the amazing capper to those achievements.

After last year’s love fest for Everything Everywhere All at Once and this year’s avalanche for Oppenheimer, it seems as though we are trending away from the idea that in the expanded Best Picture era, every nominee in the category should go home with something. Past Lives, Maestro, and Killers of the Flower Moon all went home empty handed. Tragically, this isn’t the first time a Martin Scorsese film has blanked on Oscar night after early laurels in fall, remember The Irishman? It’s a trend that has been seen to varying degrees in the past and in a year as lauded as 2023 has been, it is a bit surprising to see two films dominate as much as Oppenheimer and Poor Things did. It certainly harkens back to twenty years prior when presenters had to make it through saying, The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King 11 times in one night.

All in all, a great spectacle as the Oscars should be and with the new early start, long, but not overwhelming. Seriously, though, Academy, ditch Jimmy Kimmel. He’s had his chance. Get someone new, someone old, or no one at all. 

Chasing the Gold: 2024 Oscars Reactions

This week on Chasing the Gold, Shadan Larki and Erica Richards give their thoughts on the 96th Academy Awards! It was an eventful evening with some incredible winners and musical performances. There’s so much to talk about and we get into everything that made this year’s Oscars a memorable one.

On that note, check out this week’s show and let us know what you think in the comment section. Thanks for listening and for supporting the InSession Film Podcast!

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Chasing the Gold – 2024 Oscars Reactions

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