Director: Denis Villeneuve
Writer: Jon Spaihts, Denis Villeneuve, Eric Roth
Stars: Timothée Chalamet, Rebecca Ferguson, Oscar Isaac, Josh Brolin, Stellan Skarsgård, Dave Bautista, Zendaya

Synopsis: The feature adaptation of Frank Herbert’s science fiction novel, about the son of a noble family entrusted with the protection of the most valuable asset and most vital element in the galaxy.

When it comes to blockbuster spectacles, this past year has been filled with them due to several lockdowns worldwide preventing them from releasing in 2020. It seems like many companies from Disney to Universal are trying to make their voices the loudest in this competition, and yet it has been Warner Bros. who have created the most buzz throughout this past year. Whether their strategy to trying to be the first with Tenet or having a day-and-date release plan with HBO Max worked or not, their blockbusters become staples for the film community. Denis Villeneuve’s Dune is certainly no exception to that rule.

It may be intimidating thinking of entering the fictional world of Arrakis in the form of a feature-length film, but Villeneuve takes steps to make sure that the film is accessible to any film fan. It does not matter whether you have read the source material or not, the information given in this adaptation is easy to process and engaging to follow along with. Part of that comes to the choice of splitting the book up, with this film being Part One of what will hopefully be a series to come. This choice gives the film plenty of time to breathe and digest the world around us.

Villeneuve is known for his incredible sense of world-building and Dune is no exception. Not only are the visuals stunning, but the set of characters all help establish the landscape and political state of this time. Following Paul Atreides (played by Timothée Chalamet), the son of a Duke and someone who at a young age is coming to terms with the power his family holds and the religious and political stance his mother follows, the audience is eased into the exposition alongside Paul as we see him go on an epic journey. The visions that Paul has throughout, seeing his meeting with Chani (played by Zendaya) and a ritual duel he must face, the audience is immersed into this world and the stakes that are at play throughout.

Even though this is available to watch on HBO Max in the US, there is no better way to see this film than on the biggest screen you can. When the camera pans over the mass amount of desert, the vibrant colors light up the screen as the scope of the landscape becomes clear. It is not just the huge showcase scenes that are impressive though as cinematographer Greig Fraser is able to capture the more intimate moments, particularly with Paul and his mother Lady Jessica (played by Rebecca Ferguson), beautifully and showcase the more vulnerable moments on screen.

It would be enough of a cinematic experience with just the visuals, but the technical elements within the sound are award-worthy. The sound design is balanced incredibly well, something that most major blockbusters struggle to do. The dialogue is clear and easy to understand, and yet it does not take away from the roaring of the aircrafts and the action that takes place. Not only that but this film is accompanied by the best score of the year, of course, done by the one and only Hans Zimmer. The blend of orchestral music and the vocal choir creates a range of tones that helps accentuate any moment on the screen, leaving shocks going through your body. In particular, the track “Ripples in the Sand”, used as one of the leading songs in the promotional material for the film, highlights just how good this score really is.

For some people, this film may feel anti-climactic and unfulfilling as of this moment due to it being the first part. There is no clear resolution as the journey has only just begun, but the structure of the film does help answer a lot of questions and the choice of where to cut the film does feel perfect in its own way. Villeneuve has managed to create a cinematic masterpiece that makes 155 minutes fly right by, whilst also begging for another three hours to complete the rest of the story. It has been a long time since I have been this excited about a cinematic experience, and I hope everyone else goes out to support it as well.

Grade: A+

Director: Adam Randall
Writer: Brent Dillon
Stars: Jorge Lendeborg Jr., Debby Ryan, Lucy Fry, Raúl Castillo, Alfie Allen, Marlene Forte, Alexander Ludwig, Sydney Sweeney, Megan Fox

Synopsis: A college student moonlighting as a chauffeur picks up two mysterious women for a night of party-hopping across LA. But when he uncovers their bloodthirsty intentions – and their dangerous, shadowy underworld – he must fight to stay alive.

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There are a lot of vampire movies, which means the odds of seeing something wholly new and unique is slim. Night Teeth doesn’t create something new with these creatures of the night, but is a sometimes enjoyable mashup of genres. The film is a supernatural gangster picture with a small amount of coming of age mixed in. It’s a little like Collateral, but with vampires.

Where the film fails to keep its intrigue is in its lore. The voiceover at the beginning sets up the rules of the Los Angeles vampire/human truce, but after that the ideas, groups and concepts can get hazy. Though, there’s little to distract from the haziness. There aren’t cool fight scenes or chases. Most of the fight scenes take place in the background of shots or not on screen at all. Some of this could be ascribed to budget or because the filmmakers were trying to put their own spin on it, but it also makes for a bit of a snooze. Monster films are only as good as their kills and this film avoids a lot of the messiness.

It would be interesting if the avoidance of messiness were in service of a dynamite character building subplot, but that’s not what happens. The romantic angle falls very flat. Jorge Lendeborg Jr. does his very best as Benny. He adapts that boyish, Hugh Grant stutter with accompanying foot in mouth disease, but when it’s played against Debby Ryan’s Blaire, it feels as if Benny’s trying to impress a brick wall. Brent Dillon certainly wrote it as if Benny is falling for the manic pixie dream girl, but what Ryan brings to the role is a different interpretation that completely clashes with any attempts at a charming romance. It would be laughable if the idea of that romance made you feel anything.

This isn’t to say Night Teeth is completely without merit, though. There are a handful of scenes created by director Adam Randall and cinematographer Eben Bolter that are visually engaging. They do employ a lot of neon saturated colors as is typical of today’s action/thrillers and they do often keep the camera stagnant and let the action happen within the frame. One of the funniest scenes is as Victor, played blandly by Alfie Allen, and Zoe, played by Lucy Fry who really sinks her teeth into the role, are on a phone call check in. During Victor’s half of the call, the camera is in a wide shot so we see Victor’s trunk open and a man in pain flop out. We watch the man crawl away from the car. Casually, and still conversing, Victor walks over to the crawling man as the camera pans with him and he drags the man back to the car like he was nothing. It’s a fun scene that reminds us how powerful vampires are supposed to be.

Night Teeth fails the show don’t tell test on a lot of occasions. If the filmmakers could have gotten out of their own heads about creating something new and just created something cool, they could have had something. Night Teeth could have used more snarky Megan Fox. It could have used a couple sentences to explain the special knives. It could have used an explanation as to why Jay, Benny’s half brother, knows about vampires, keeps the truce with vampires, has been passed down all knowledge of vampires, but Benny has no idea about any of it. It could have used a moment, any moment to explain how Victor came to be the most powerful vampire, able to take down two others in one go. It could have even used a few more moments with the Night Legion who could have actually added to the lore and world building. It could have actually built a solid foundation for its world first instead of letting it fade in and out uninterestingly. Night Teeth could have been a pretty decent vampire/gangster mashup, but the convoluted nature of the world and the lackluster love plot sink it faster than a vamp can sink its teeth into a willing neck.

Grade: D

Director: Traci A. Curry and Stanley Nelson

Synopsis: Stanley Nelson examines the largest prison uprising in US history, conducting dozens of new interviews with inmates, journalists, and other witnesses.

The phrase “It didn’t have to be that way” lands like a savage blow to your guts in Stanley Nelson and Traci A. Curry’s harrowing documentary Attica centered around the largest prison uprising in the history of the United States; a rebellion that ended in bloodshed.

Using interviews with ex-inmate survivors, journalists, and family members of prison guards, Attica sets the record straight and refuses to let time forget about a highly relevant event in the history of a country still fighting with racial inequity and police brutality.

The documentary drops you right at the start of the uprising, which saw 1200 inmates taking over the New York prison, hostages included. By doing this, the filmmakers grab your attention from minute one and never let you go. Gradually, the reasons for the rebellion are explained by survivors: Inhuman treatment, racism, no religious freedom, police beatings. “Fear… they ran the prison with fear,” one of them explains to the camera. Unfortunately, it’s what you would expect out of an American prison operated by white guards only, and whose inmate population was composed of around 70% Black and Brown people. The subhuman conditions, abuse, the rebellious attitude of new generations, the death of Black Panther George Jackson were all sparks that started the fire of an unavoidable conflict.

The prisoners demanded basic human treatment like showers, toilet paper, more time outside their cells, but the State didn’t like one key demand: Amnesty. In a bid for support, they requested the presence of an “Observer Committee” comprised of influential figures and civil rights activists such as Clarence Jones, William Kunstler, and John Dunne. Attica assembled a group of living members of this Committee which provide crucial and, at times bone-chilling, insight into the whole scene.

The documentary skillfully intertwines the interviews with powerful archival and surveillance footage that takes you right into the tension of the conflict while giving a glimpse into the hunger for humanity inside Attica. You see hundreds of inmates covering their faces, setting up tents, and digging a trench to use as a toilet. They raise their fists in defiance and, at one point, you manage to see the hope on their faces. However, there’s always eerie footage of armed guards watching over them from the rooftops.

Aided by Aljernon Tunsil’s excellent editing, a subtle score by Tom Phillips that smartly and slowly builds dread, and a frightening sound design, Nelson and Curry build the documentary like a timebomb. It all starts with the presentation of the white town surrounding the prison, then you hear about how people could only see the prisoners as animals — with casual racism thrown in the mix —, you learn that New York Governor Nelson D. Rockefeller was refusing to answer calls and show up to the prison. The increasing desperation of the inmates as negotiations stall and Observer Committee members talking about the somber feeling in the air are the last warnings of the bloodbath to come, which the directors don’t hesitate to show, sometimes in full color. The torture and humiliation of prisoners being dragged through excrement is a contrast to the glee of white guards leaving the prison after the assault. These are scenes that could very well belong to a concentration camp, but were in fact perpetrated on US soil by US forces by indirect mandate of the US president. “Who were the true criminals?” seems to ask Attica.

During a panel at the 2021 DXIFF symposium, Stanley Nelson explained that most of the former inmates interviewed for this film hadn’t had a chance to truly speak about their story. Nobody asked them. By giving them a voice, Attica brings a new perspective to the event and corrects the white narrative created by the failure of the media, which is steadily emphasized throughout the doc. Even though the inmates asked for specific trustworthy and objective journalists to be present during the negotiations, we learn that the rest of American coverage wasn’t interested in portraying the struggles or needs of the prisoners, rather paint them in a negative light and spread false rumors about how they were torturing hostages. Later on, we learn that these news outlets falsely reported that the death of the hostages was a product of slash-throating instead of bullets shot by white policemen assaulting the prison. This narrative is the one that permeated throughout time.

Attica is a visceral, relevant, and skillfully directed portrait of how a State failed to provide basic humanity to its citizens, turning to their most violent impulses instead; impulses pushed by prejudice and racism that cannot be and will not be forgotten by history.

Grade: B

Director: Mia Hansen-Løve.
Writer: Mia Hansen-Løve.
Stars: Vicky Krieps, Tim Roth, Mia Wasikowska, Anders Danielsen Lie.

Synopsis: Two filmmakers retreat to Fårö island for the summer and hope to find inspiration where Ingmar Bergman shot his most celebrated films. As the days pass by, the lines between fantasy and reality begin to blur, and the couple is torn apart.

Even though filmmaker Chris (Vicky Krieps) travelled to Fårö Island to get the inspiration to write her latest film, she is struggling with writer’s block. This place, famously known as Ingmar Bergman’s island because of its significance in the Swedish filmmaker’s movies and private life, is now seen as a safe haven for artists that use it as a way to explore their ideas and create new pieces of art.

It seems that Tony (Tim Roth), Chris’s partner and fellow filmmaker, has found its secret. While he thrives writing his latest oeuvre, giving masterclasses around the place, and getting never-ending compliments from fans, Chris can’t go past her outline. “I’m afraid that it’s like stuff already done,” Chris tells Tony during one of her outbursts, “We spend all our lives saying the same thing.” The key, Tony says, is the perspective of who says it.

This snippet of dialogue is also the key to appreciate Mia Hansen-Løve’s filmography, one that is focused on the ordinary and the simplicity of life, and yet provokes strong reactions. In Goodbye First Love (2011), she made us suffer the despair of the first heartbreak, in Eden (2014), the uncertainty of following our passions, and in Father of My Children (2009), the suffocation of depression. Now, in Bergman Island, her most personal film to date, Hansen-Løve offers a peek into the tortured mind of an artist and the secrets and restlessness that live inside of her.

Bergman Island starts with Chris and Tony arriving at Fårö island, a secluded peninsula in Sweden that is an odyssey to arrive to. Nevertheless, the pay-off is immediate: these filmmakers start experiencing the life and context that inspired the mind behind works of art such as Through a Glass Darkly (1961), Persona (1966), and Scenes from a Marriage (1973). Being there inspires Chris to deal with Bergman’s dichotomy as an artist, man, and parent.

How is it possible that such a beautiful place – surrounded by evident peace and simplicity – could be the setting for the tortured stories created by Bergman? Could a family man have created such a body of work or is it justifiable that Bergman neglected his nine children in the name of his art? These questions follow Chris around as she faces her own inability to write. As she struggles, Tony flourishes.

While the story seems simple – just as with other Mia Hansen-Løve films – the depth of its complexity resides in the discreet changes in the looks, unspoken interactions, and reveries shared by Chris and Tony. They arrived happily to the island, but soon they start to drift apart as they find themselves in opposite sides of the creative process. In this meta-story, it is impossible not to think about Mia Hansen-Løve’s life and the way Chris and Tony reflect her own past relationship with French director, Olivier Assayas.

Divided in two storylines, Bergman Island is mysterious and hard to define. Its freedom and rejection to an easy characterization allows for the formulation of theories and subjective interpretations. Just as with Bergman’s films, this movie can be interpreted in different and contrasting ways. The possibilities are endless and any one of them can be satisfying.

Sometime in the middle, a second love story is presented: Amy (a heart-breaking Mia Wasikowska) and Joseph (an irresistibly unreadable Anders Danielsen Lie), two ex-lovers, reunite for a friend’s wedding in Fårö island. With a physical appearance and background that are eerie similar to Chris (and consequently to Mia Hansen-Løve), Amy gets entangled in a love affair with the man that broke her heart years before (this section could easily be a Goodbye, First Love sequel).

How are these two stories connected? It is for the audience to discover it and create its own conclusions. Are we seeing the present, the past or the future? What is fantasy and reality? Hansen-Løve leaves everything open to interpretation. In this regard, and considering how meta and philosophical the film is, Bergman Island flirts with Persona’s complexity and Clouds of Sils Maria’s existentialism.

Such a dense-but-disguised-as-a-simple story is highly digestible because of its technical mastery. Mia Hansen-Løve makes it look simple and natural, proving her wisdom and sensibility. The peaceful and dreamlike landscapes contrast with the torment of the lost artist. The friendly sounds contrast with Chris’s creative turmoil and Amy’s shattered illusions. Just because something looks peaceful and beautiful, it doesn’t mean that it can’t be shattering and tumultuous.

Bergman Island is the recognition of a bigger than life artist by a fellow writer; it is the examination of the creative process; and it is the use of art as a way of emotional expression. Is it valid to use past experiences to create a fictional story? Is it okay to say something that you could never say to your partner through the safety of fiction? In this story, Chris finds solace in Fårö island, but also in the writing process itself. The exact thing that causes her pain is also the one that sets her free.

Deeply personal, but ambiguous enough to offer comfort to the audience, Bergman Island is equally inventive as it is mundane. It invites us to dive into our past, fantasies, and plans to explore our buried emotions. While it is accompanied by the playful rhythm of ABBA’s The Winner Takes It All or Tina Charles’s I Love to Love it slowly breaks your heart by setting loose the freedom of your imagination.

Grade: A