This week on the InSession Film Podcast, Dave Giannini fills in for Brendan again as we talk a little Planet of the Apes and the great Alexander Payne in anticipation for The Holdovers! We also discuss Marvel with The Marvels coming to theaters this weekend and if they should be concerned going forward.
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!
– Planet of the Apes (11:08) This last week we saw the new trailer for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, so we spent a few minutes talking about our reaction to it and how we feel about the new Planet of the Apes trilogy that came out last decade.
– Alexander Payne (32:27) With The Holdovers hitting theaters this weekend, we wanted to spend some time talking about Alexander Payne and what makes him a unique filmmaker. His films tend to be a little quirky and funny, but they’re equally poignant and human. We specifically talk about how he’s able to maintain that balance tonally. The cast in his films are also noteworthy and that’s something we highlight as well.
– Marvel (1:11:31) The Marvel Cinematic Universe has seemingly hit a wall with Phase Four and the introduction of their Disney+ shows. While JD is a slight defender of Phase Four, there’s no denying that there’s something off about the MCU currently. We did talk about this briefly earlier in the year, but with the recent news about Robert Downey Jr. possibly coming back, and some of their Disney+ shows coming out since that previous discussion, we thought it was apt to revisit the current standing of the MCU and what challenges they face moving forward.
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
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.
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.
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.
This week on Women InSession, we talk about the great Christopher Nolan and what makes him a distinct filmmaker. Specifically we talk about one of our favorites in The Prestige! It’s a film that most of us really love, and while it does have Nolan’s patented structure, it feels very different than a lot of his other films.
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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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.
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.
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.
On this episode, Megan Kearns joins JD do discuss Chloe Domont’s latest film Fair Play, starring Phoebe Dynevor and Alden Ehrenreich! This a film that is billed as an erotic thriller, and it may not carry much sizzle in that regard, but it’s still a very effecting film with its depiction of power dynamics.
Review: Fair Play (4:00) Director: Chloe Domont Writers: Chloe Domont Stars: Phoebe Dynevor, Alden Ehrenreich, Eddie Marsan, Rich Sommer
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, Dave Giannini fills in for Brendan Cassidy once again as we discuss the It Follows sequel announcement, the Killers of the Flower Moon intermission debate and why it’s challenging to be in the conversation when you live in middle America! Plus, we talk about the wonderful Sofia Coppola and why she’s one of the best filmmakers working today.
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!
– They Follow (7:28) It was announced recently that David Robert Mitchell is reteaming with Maika Monrow to do a sequel to their 2014 horror film It Follows. When it was released nearly a decade ago, we were big fans and had a great time talking about it on the podcast. So while we were blindsided by the news, it’s fair to say that we’re excited for this one.
– Intermission Debate (19:02) Also in the news this week, we learned that some theaters were holding their own intermissions for Martin Scorsese’s Killers of the Flower Moon, despite the film not having a formal intermission. Some people were up in arms over this and others were adamant that people should be allowed to go pee during a movie that is three and a half hours long. We talk about why the integrity of art is important while having empathy for those who struggle to go that long without a bathroom break.
– Location Challenges (40:10) With all of the film festivals going on, there’s a lot of conversation over the movies being premiered that will headline this year’s fall season. Many of these films haven’t been released to the public, however some critics and cinephiles have seen these movies multiple times because of their privilege and ability to travel. The best of our peers understand this privilege, but there are some who ostentatiously overlook how difficult it is for us who do not live in a major media market or have kids and are unable to travel to these festivals. So we talk about the challenges of trying to see these movies and being relevant to the film discourse happening right now.
– Sofia Coppola (1:13:26) Sofia Coppola is one of our best filmmakers we have working today. Everything she’s done as a director has been artful, intuitive and assiduous. Her films feature great performances that depict characters that we remember and love. They’re full of rich themes and human texture. She has a style that’s as diverting as it is thoughtful. And with her new film Priscilla coming out soon, we thought it would be fun to talk about why we think she’s so spectacular.
If you want to help support us, there are several ways you can help us and we’d absolutely appreciate it. Every penny goes directly back into supporting the show and we are truly honored and grateful. Thanks for your support and for listening to the InSession Film Podcast!
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.
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. Thisis 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.
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.
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.
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.
On this episode, JD and Brendan discuss Justine Triet’s Palme d’Or winning film Anatomy of a Fall, starring Sandra Hüller and Milo Machado-Graner! We weren’t too familiar with Triet’s work previous to this, but she’s very much on the map now as she’s given us one of the best films of the year.
Review: Anatomy of a Fall (6:00) Director: Justine Triet Writers: Justine Triet, Arthur Harari Stars: Sandra Hüller, Swann Arlaud, Milo Machado-Graner, Antoine Reinartz
This week on Women InSession, we discuss the hot new concert documentary Taylor Swift: The Eras Tour and some of our favorite movies of 2023 so far! This was a really fun show. We are big Taylor Swift fans, so of course it was obligatory that we covered her new doc, and with awards season approaching it felt like a good time to talk about some of the better movies of the year at this point.
Panel: Shadan Larki, Erica Richards
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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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.
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.
On this episode, JD and Brendan discuss Martin Scorsese’s latest film Killers of the Flower Moon, starring Lily Gladstone, Leonardo DiCaprio and Robert De Niro! Scorsese has always been a sophisticated filmmaker, but his last two films, Silence and The Irishman, come from a place of existential reflection and Killers of the Flower Moon is no different in that regard. We talk about why that makes the film special inside this recent trilogy and so much more.
Review: Killers of the Flower Moon (9:00) Director: Martin Scorsese Writers: Martin Scorsese, Eric Roth Stars: Leonardo DiCaprio, Robert De Niro, Lily Gladstone
