Synopsis:An earnest theater director has the task of remounting her former mentor’s most famous work, the opera Salome. Some disturbing memories from her past will allow her repressed trauma to color the present.
At first, Seven Veils is impenetrable. Seven Veils is a complicated film. There is a wall between audience and narrative. That wall is intentional as the narrative needs it to be there to chip away slowly and methodically at the answers to many of the questions posed. The wall falls as Jeanine’s (Amanda Seyfried) memories about her previous experience with this production of the opera “Salome” and the trauma of her childhood is revealed.
As it plays on the screen, the script is near inaccessible. The script, written by director Atom Egoyan, would work better if more concrete details had been made clear. The characters, the dialogue, and the images always skirt around the truth. It’s like a whirlpool that never actually sucks us in. We circle closer and closer, but we never go completely down. It makes the revelations that do come more satisfying that we weren’t spoonfed any answers, but with that satisfaction comes more confusion as other questions are raised.
The layers of Egoyan’s script are sometimes played all at once and out of linear order. There are shifts to the voice over narration that are sometimes meant to be apt quotes from the original play, “Salome” by Oscar Wilde, sometimes meant to be Jeanine’s essay that was meant to accompany the program, sometimes meant to be a part of the video journal she’s making for the show’s website, and sometimes are meant to be direct addresses to Charles, her former mentor who died and stipulated to his loved ones that Jeanine remount his most famous production. The ebb and flow of these is strange, and cacophonous at times, bits of narration add to the confusion about what the film is trying to say. It’s similar to the dissonance of when the diegetic music from the “Salome” opera is mixed with Mychael Danna’s non-diegetic score.
The muddiness of the script never interferes with the heavy feelings of dread we can sense in each scene. Egoyan’s long time collaborator, cinematographer Paul Sarossy, uses digital photography to achieve a sharpness to the picture that evokes danger and heightens our sense of fight or flight. There is one scene in particular very early on that means nothing to us then, but everything to us at the end.
Jeanine is making her way through various aspects of the production until she comes to a team working on the projection of a visual element that shows a young girl, highlighted in a golden yellow, walking through a black and white forest. Jeanine steps forward to watch the clip as it’s put together and as she turns, her body casts a shadow on the screen and the overlay image of the forest plays on her face while her shadow contains the little girl. It’s a spectacular use of visual imagery to convey the inner mind of a character.
As the film progresses, we see the trauma Jeanine has endured, first at the hands of her abusive father (Ryan McDonald) and then as her deepest horrors are used by the man she loved, Charles, to imbue his vision with more of an edge. The beauty of Amanda Seyfried’s performance is that she understands Jeanine’s pain so well that with a flick of her incredibly expressive eyes, she can call the deepest emotions needed for a scene. Seyfried has built a performance that exceeds the parameters in the script and speaks more volumes than the words ever could. It’s Seyfried’s performance that keeps the film watchable.
The complicated nature of the main plot, not to mention the subplot, eventually lead to a pretty good idea of what the film means. Or, really, what we hope it means. Atom Egoyan has little interest in giving us more than the barest of details to figure out everything Seven Veils is trying to say. It’s a film you’ll continue to think about and puzzle over. It’s a film that has a visual style that sticks in your mind and rattles about as you attempt to solve it. In many ways, Seven Veils is stunning, but the inaccessibility of the script leaves much to be desired and too much to be irritatingly pondered to be truly enjoyable.
Some were shocked to see Best Actress go to Mikey Madison when Demi Moore’s comeback story was right there for people to feast on. Anora swept and catapulted Sean Baker to a new level of greatness as he waved goodbye to his days as an underappreciated indie director. Adrien Brody crushed Timothée Chalamet’s dreams of becoming the first ’90s-born actor to snag a Lead Actor Oscar win. No Other Land won Best Documentary even with no U.S. distributor and hostile film industry moguls in attendance. I’m Still Here rightfully became the Best International Feature, the first for a Brazilian movie at the Oscars.
Some surprises are disappointing, but others are a delight. Like Paul Tazewell winning Best Costume Design for his magical work on Wicked, becoming the first Black man to ever win this award and opening an ocean of opportunities for BIPOC artists to gain deserved recognition for their hard work behind the cameras of major films.
A tweet from my dear friend Whitney Anne Adams, a costume designer and protégé of the renowned Catherine Martin, caught my interest as she sang Tazewell’s praises. What follows is an insightful post-Oscars conversation with Whitney, delving into highlights of the past award-season achievements in costume design, the brilliance of Paul Tazewell, and what his win means for other BIPOC costume designers. Enjoy!
Jaylan Salah: How did you feel about this year’s Best Costume Design Oscar nominees?
Whitney Anne Adams: This year’s Best Costume Design nominees were fantastic —all brilliant and worthy of their nominations. I also had the great pleasure of being an additional assistant costume designer for a few months on A Complete Unknown last year, and it was an honor and a pleasure to work under the guidance of the great Arianne Phillips.
Jaylan Salah: Which film stood out to you in its costume design? Why do you, as a costume designer, think that Wicked costumes shine more than any other nominee this year?
Whitney Anne Adams: All these nominees had stunning designs, but I was blown away by the artistry and imagination of Paul Tazewell’s work for Wicked. He’s created shapes and textures we’ve never seen before. And just the sheer magnitude of builds and costume pieces is astounding. It’s quite difficult to create a fantasy world unlike our own and have it all make sense and feel grounded. He also had the task of making something new and different from the stage production but still keeping the essence of those characters and nodding to the original designs. He walked the thinnest, most difficult tightrope quite successfully and beautifully.
Jaylan Salah: How did you feel when you heard Paul Tazewell’s name announced as the winning Costume Designer for his work in Wicked? What was your history working with Paul, and how do you describe his work ethic?
Whitney Anne Adams: I was so very excited for Paul—it’s so well earned and so well deserved. Early in my career, I was a stitcher and a sometimes costume dresser substitute at the La Jolla Playhouse and got to work on costumes Paul designed for the Broadway-bound musical Memphis. His designs were gorgeous then, and he was so kind and wonderful to every single person working on the production. He has an incredible work ethic and always strives for the best possible design onstage, but never at the expense of his team. I’ve loved his work for years and am just over the moon for him. It’s been so wonderful to see him lifting his entire team on social media throughout the awards season, too.
Jaylan Salah:What does this historic win mean for future BIPOC designers? Has costume Design, as a category, celebrated diversity in its nominations throughout the years?
Whitney Anne Adams: I hope this win further shows the diverse makeup of the costume department and costume designers. We are one of the most diverse sections of the industry, and it’s beyond time that awards started reflecting that. Since the Academy Award for Best Costume Design was first presented in 1949, only 26 nominations out of 540 have been awarded to BIPOC honorees, with now seven wins as of last night. Only three Black designers have ever been nominated, and now two of them have won. Celebrating Ruth E. Carter’s recent two Oscar wins and Paul’s last night was so exciting. I grew up idolizing Eiko Ishioka and her stunning Oscar-winning work for Bram Stoker’s Dracula. The list of BIPOC nominees is too short, and I hope it will grow longer next year. As we embark on the start of another season of discussions about costume design, I hope we all take personal action to seek out and watch diverse stories and designs and recognize the brilliant work of talented artists from the many communities that make up the industry both in America and across the world.
Costume Designer Ruth E. Carter is the first Black woman to win two Oscars, both for her work on Marvel’s Black Panther films.
Jaylan Salah:Was there a film you enjoyed last year and wished had been on the Oscars’ Best Costume Design list?
Whitney Anne Adams: Like every year, there was so much wonderful work this year, but some of my other favorite costume designs were Emmanuelle Youchnovski’s The Substance, Sarah Evelyn’s The Fall Guy, Megan Bijou Coates’s Shirley, Brittany Loar’s Nickel Boys, Antoinette Messam’s The Book of Clarence, Alexis Forte’s Smile 2, and Mitchell Travers’s Mother’s Instinct.
On this episode, JD is joined by InSession Film writer Zach Youngs to discuss Alex Parkinson’s new film Last Breath! It is the ultimate “dad movie” and will be on cable network some time soon. Something we say complimentary, it’s a good thriller and a captivating story.
Review: Last Breath (4:00) Director: Alex Parkinson Writers: Mitchell LaFortune, Alex Parkinson, David Brooks Stars: Woody Harrelson, Simu Liu, Finn Cole, Cliff Curtis
This week on the InSession Film Podcast, Gerald from The Awards Garage joins us to discuss the 2025 Oscars and we continue our Best Picture Movie Series with Robert Wise’s iconic 1961 musical West Side Story!
– 2025 Oscars (0:42) We begin the show this week by delving into the chaos that was the 97th Academy Awards. Conan ending up doing a great job, but due to circumstances outside of his control, the structure of the ceremony was a bit odd. Some categories had clips. Others had the “fab five” set up. The Bond tribute was weird. But the show also featured some great winners and amazing moments as we celebrated what was a great year in film.
– Best Picture Movie Series: West Side Story (1:25:40) We continue this series with one of the most iconic musicals of all-time. West Side Story was nominated for 11 Oscars and it won 10 of them, including Best Picture of course. Its dance and choreography was revolutionary. The songs are captivating. Its use of color is evocative. There’s so much about West Side Story that is excellent on its own terms, but it’s also been one of the most inspirational films in the decades afterward. This was a really fun conversation to have, and we were thrilled to catch up with it again.
Best Picture Movie Series – 1960s: Lawrence of Arabia
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Synopsis:Engaged in a mysterious relationship with her dead best friend from the Army, a female Afghanistan veteran comes head to head with her Vietnam vet grandfather at the family’s ancestral lake house.
Seeking help for your mental health is still stigmatized. It’s seen by the world outside that you’re not normal or that you have something wrong with you. It’s especially hard when people you love aren’t supportive of the journey. People deny themselves guidance and help because they can’t admit that there’s something wrong. It may not even be a big thing, but it can turn into one if not dealt with.
That’s the situation in which we meet Merit (Sonequa Martin-Green). She’s a former soldier, returned from Afghanistan, in group therapy because of a court order after a negligent incident at work. Her friend, Zoe (Natalie Morales), is with her as well, but we learn quickly she is only present for Merit because she’s dead.
The reason why Zoe’s dead is built up throughout the film, and when pieces begin to fall into place, we think we know what happened. We make an assumption based on limited facts and it’s not until Merit finally comes to terms with what caused her to be haunted by Zoe, that we understand. Writers Kyle Hausmann-Stokes, Cherish Chen, and A.J. Bermudez zig when we think they’ll zag and catch us dropping our smug look when the devastating truth about Zoe’s death is revealed. It’s a script that challenges our notions about soldiers and challenges our perceptions of what life was like for soldiers deployed to Iraq and Afghanistan.
There is a beauty to the structure of My Dead Friend Zoe. Credit for that has to go to director Hausmann-Stokes and editor Ali Greer crafting the visual look of the film like a person’s memory. As Merit self medicates by running punishing distances, snippets of her life with Zoe flit in. These inserts aren’t plot, but a glimpse of how Merit saw the friend she loved. The flashbacks feel like Merit has been holding herself back from remembering everything. They’re placed in an order that builds the tension, but refuses to reveal more than we need in any given piece. Later, as Merit has her panic attacks, the sound and speed of the images are chaotic and disjointed as Merit tries to suppress them from the forefront of her mind.
However, the technical wizardry wouldn’t work if the core friendship didn’t have great chemistry. Martin-Green and Morales feel so comfortable with each other. Merit and Zoe’s friendship is the kind of friendship that’s more like family. The two of them are great at the goofy rapport with Martin-Green as the straight man and Morales as the loose cannon. They are even better in the hard scenes, the memories Merit is attempting to suppress. There’s a deep sadness to these moments, but it’s more for the memories of our own friends who have left us in one way or another. This relationship feels so real and lived in. Sonequa Martin-Green and Natalie Morales are absolutely perfect in these roles.
If there is fault with My Dead Friend Zoe it’s that its plot drags a little once the Alzheimer’s subplot is in full swing. Ed Harris is as good as he always is as Dale, but it feels a little like something tacked on. Merit could have been escaping to escape, but instead she’s escaping to a larger problem that helps the resolution, but only just. It might have been better if Dale was more of a voice for mental health. He, as the one family member that Merit looks up to the most, could have been a guiding light rather than another echo chamber like Zoe trying to tell Merit to get over it.
My Dead Friend Zoe is a terrifically funny and very thought provoking film. It isn’t one that will leave you easily and you won’t want it to. The leads are terrific and the script is very well written. It will make you want to call a friend you haven’t heard from in a while just to reminisce about what made you friends in the first place.
Director:Lucile Hadžihalilović Writers: Geoff Cox, Lucile Hadžihalilović, Alante Kavaite Stars: Marion Cotillard, Gaspar Noé, August Diehl
Synopsis: Jeanne, a 15-year-old orphan, witnesses the shoot for a film adaptation of the fairy tale The Snow Queen, and she becomes fascinated by its star, Cristina, an actress who is just as mysterious and alluring as the Queen she is playing.
One director who deserves more attention and love for her curation of elemental and dream-like cinema is Lucile Hadžihalilović. Starting her career as an editor, working primarily with provocateur and rabble-rouser Gaspar Noé (who is her husband) on films like I Stand Alone and Carne, Hadžihalilović has spent most of her career in the shadows, from which her work is born and caressed in, gaining light and love from the care and gentleness that the French director gives to them. Her surrealist touch takes the viewer on a journey of finely curated images that seem conjured from her dreams and nightmares–the two intertwining to create a hypnotizing atmosphere and slow-burning, gloomy tone. Few directors like her always take viewers into different ventures each time they present a film. And Hadžihalilović has provided some of the most unique in French cinema in the past couple of decades with films like Evolution (2015) and Innocence (2004).
In an interview with Lucile Hadžihalilović for the Guardian following the release of Earwig back in 2022, film director and writer Mark Cousins asked if she would’ve preferred to have been directed in the silent era. Hadžihalilović replies, “There was a faith in the power of the images, an intensity and often poetry in silent film that is wonderful and that we have lost.” “Silent films can be really close to the language of dreams”, she continued. There used to be a magical sensation upon each image that went through the sprocket. The wonder of cinema is not far from being gone. But the films from the silent era and golden age indeed had imagery and sequences that felt dream-like and ultra-realistic, easily perceived in your sleep and daily life.
The lack of sound made viewers rely on visual storytelling rather than articulated phrasings and dialogues, allowing emotions and narrative to be conveyed through composition and minute details in the performances. Gestures, shadows, lighting, movement, and much more were at the forefront of the picture, where a subconscious discussion occurred between the director and the viewer. That’s what happens with Hadžihalilović’s films. They convey more with the images themselves rather than the dialogue per se. She taps into our indescribable visions at night during our slumber and creates cinematic parables about innocence and transformation. Her latest project, The Ice Tower (La tour de glace, screening in competition at the 2025 Berlin International Film Festival), is no different. Casting a spell onto the audience, Hadžihalilović once again puts you in a trance, guiding you into a story of yearning and social indoctrination between reality and fantasy.
Utilizing Hans Christian Anderson’s fairy tale ‘The Snow Queen’ as inspiration for the constant shift between reality and fantasy, The Ice Tower follows teenager Jeanne (Clara Pacini), the eldest girl in the foster home in a tiny, icy village in 1970s France. On one fine morning, Jeanne escapes the foster home to go to the big city–the way many other fairy tales have begun. (Alice, bored by a riverbank, finds an escape from her rudimentary life via a rabbit hole that sends her to Wonderland; Peter Pan takes Wendy and her brothers away from their draining home to Neverland.) One of the first things that happens to Jeanne is being adopted briefly by a group of teenage girls at a local ice rink.
Jeanne sees something in Bianca, the group’s leader—free-spiritedness and exuberance, qualities she does not recognize in herself. She then becomes fond of Bianca even though she does not know the girl in the least. She’s attached to her personality since Jeanne has been isolated from the world for most of her life, stuck in a foster home full of abandoned souls. This is why, after this encounter, Jeanne creates a new persona while in her escapist ventures, naming herself “Bianca”. From this point on, Hadžihalilović begins to add Mulholland Drive-like elements of duality, in which reality and fantasy blur with one another. It is not as surrealist as David Lynch would cover it, but the French director does a split between dimensions to elaborate more on female independence and identity.
Using the pseudonym of “Bianca”, Jeanne wanders around for a place to stay as day turns to night. She goes deeper into the rabbit hole and ends up in a place where dreams come to life: a soundstage. Inside, a film crew is working on an adaptation of Hans Christian Anderson’s tale ‘The Snow Queen,’ a frostbitten production where reality and fiction blur. This adaptation stars dive movie star Cristina van den Berg (Marion Cotillard, reuniting with Hadžihalilović for the first time since Innocence in 2004) as the Ice Queen, a figure that is equally mesmerizing as it is malevolent. It is directed by Dino (Gaspar Noé), a filmmaker known for some visceral and confrontative pictures; Hadžihalilović slowly adds more self-referential notes to this already confounding piece.
The allure of cinema is tied with the lead characters’ darkness and melancholy. The soundstage becomes a portal, not just into the world of filmmaking, but into Jeanne’s subconscious–a place where the past, present, and imagined futures collide. The artificial glow of studio lights, the “playing dress-up” effect of the makeup and costumes, and the tangible effects and sets make Jeanne tether between self-discovery and self-destruction. As Bianca, the young girl manages to get a role as an extra in the film and catches the attention of the glamorous European actress–initiating the first steps of a dicey, dual fascination. The two worlds between the film-within-a-film intersect as the allure Cristina and Jeanne/Bianca have for one another increases.
Her perception of Cristina is one centered around erotic allure. Meanwhile, we don’t know what the actress wants with the young girl from the get-go. Does she see herself in her? Is Cristina’s past reflected in Jeanne’s eyes? Hadžihalilović develops this mystery via her usual playful methods of constructing surrealist imagery. The characters in the film slowly drown in this darkness that does not seem to dissipate. The shadows show their sorrows, sense of abandonment, yearning, and fractured identities, primarily Cristina and Jeanne/Bianca’s metaphysical intertwining. As one is graced by the screen and killed after the light immersed from the sprocket fades, the other receives life from the gaze of another, then ought to bask in the gloom.
Throughout the film, Jeanne looks with admiration at women who have an allure or poise that she wants and does not know how to attain, much like the attraction Naomi Watts’ Diane Selwyn has for Laura Harring’s Rita in Mulholland Drive. There is a desire for an escape, a psychological intimacy connected to an illusion, or these characters’ unattainable dreams. Instead of utilizing sexual chemistry and eroticism, Hadžihalilović focuses on the fascination that young girls have with older women who have a certain elegance and slickness to them. Hadžihalilović has her protagonist who, coincidentally looks a bit like Lucile herself (bob-cut and all), experiences the vast land of promises and perils that is to come in her later years as she ages.
It reminds me of Dorothy experiencing and learning more about life through treacherous and lively scenarios in The Wizard of Oz. However, The Ice Tower is much more reliant on the despondency beneath the facade of magnetism. Hence, using a film-within-a-film narrative gadget and self-referential tone breaks the illusion of glamour, revealing the loneliness and uncertainty that lurk beneath. Jeanne/Bianca’s admiration is not wholly passive but more so transformative. The young girl mimics and adopts the bad and good traits of those she idolizes, whether an ice-skating teenager or a prima donna movie star, obscuring what she deems as admiration and self-reinvention. This double-edged sword is a pretty liberating thing for Jeanne. However, at the same time, it is a disorienting one that pulls her deeper into a world full of facades.
In The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy seeks self-discovery within her ventures, crossing the yellow brick road to find herself. Jeanne has a road of her own, yet it is more ambiguous and shaped by longing rather than certainty. This film-within-a-film gadget helps reinforce this thematic thread by accentuating how cinema can be a fragile construction depending on the viewer and the performer. Hadžihalilović uses cinema as an art form for escape and reflection. She utilizes her dreams to forge her stories, although they also reveal some personal afflictions Hadžihalilović might have, even if she does not want them to appear as such. Her latest work shows you that there is an undeniable allure in transformation and breaking of innocence. However, Hadžihalilović also tells you that sadness is amidst it all, even in the most enchanting illusions.
Cinema is a tool to tap into dreams and nightmares, and it is constructed by people who try to capture what was once in their heads briefly. It is enchantment through and through from the moment light leaves through the sprocket. Hadžihalilović takes advantage of her image curation to capture that allure from both sides of the plain: the creators and their creations, the process and the end product, all told through a coming-of-age fairytale about identity, isolation, and remembrance. Perhaps there is something more to it that I’m not catching at the moment. (This often happens when you watch many movies during a short period at film festivals.) But rest assured that The Ice Tower is the type of picture whose images linger for a long while and, somehow, are transmitted into your dreams. We are given the ability to traverse that world again without being at the cinema. It is a weird experience to capture and describe through writing. But that is the magic of Lucile Hadžihalilović’s cinema.
Synopsis: Follows Elvira as she battles against her gorgeous stepsister in a realm where beauty reigns supreme. She resorts to extreme measures to captivate the prince, amidst a ruthless competition for physical perfection.
Cinderella’s story is a tale as old as time, retold a million times, decade by decade, in various forms and genres. Of course, the one that first comes to mind is the classic 1950 animated Disney film we all saw as kids. But this story has been changed and remodeled to the point where there are new meanings. For example, Jaques Demy did his rendition back in 1970 with Donkey Skin (Peau d’ane), utilizing his vivid, swift cinematic movements and mixing them with a sinister undertone in the colorful fantasy world to create a touching film about disguise, femininity, and hedonism. Most recently, in a further stretch, there’s Sean Baker’s Palme d’Or-winning Anora, a modern-day Cinderella story about a Brooklyn sex worker who marries the son of a Russian oligarch, which later becomes an exploration of the faux American dream, female agency, and loneliness.
These are some of the ways in which the classic tale has been retold. However, I don’t think we have seen a version like Norwegian director Emilie Kristine Blichfeldt’s feature-length debut, The Ugly Stepsister (Den stygge stesøsteren, screening in the Panorama section of the 2025 Berlin International Film Festival), where blood is spilled, and the macabre is dwelled in. If you have scoured through the straight-to-streaming weekend releases list, you may have seen some trashy horror versions of Cinderella. But Blichfeldt’s, although it has its own sense of trashiness and gore attached, has some meat on its bones, to the same degree it has bodily transformations and splatter–utilizing body horror as the catalyst for its scares and messaging.
The Ugly Stepsister follows Elvira (Lea Mathilde Skar-Myren), a lonely girl living in the shadows of her own home, as her stepsister Agnes (Thea Sofie Loch Næss) gets all of the attention, including that of her mother Rebekka (Ane Dahl Torp). The two have different world views, induced by their respective forms of isolation. Elvira is sidelined by everyone around her, while Agnes tries to make everything perfect to comply with the standards put upon her by her mother and society. Most importantly, Agnes wants to ensure she is the prettiest girl at the ball for the “prince charming” of this fantasy world, Prins Julian (Isac Calmroth). There’s a reason why “prince charming” is in quotes. One of the changes that Blichfeldt makes to the classic tale is making the desired prince a complete and insufferable scumbag.
Prins Julian is the complete opposite of what a prince is supposed to be or behave like. Calmroth does everything he can to make the audience loathe him entirely. And he succeeds easily. Everyone wants the attention of Prince Julian, even the saddened Elvira, who has fever dreams about him. Elvira will go to lengths that Agnes wouldn’t, although, if tested, there is a chance. However, what Elivra decides to do, with the encouragement of her stepmother, who wants perfection nonetheless, is brutal and bloody. She breaks her body and picks it apart for the sake of beauty and allure–the sheer magnetism that her stepmother views as the most essential facet a woman should have.
From pimple-popping to nose jobs and eye corrections, Elvira undergoes many surgical cosmetic procedures handled by Dr. Esthetique (Adam Lundgren), whose methods are more brutal and cruel than any other doctor. But what can you expect from a mad doctor with that name? For some reason, he reminded me of Dr. Satan from Rob Zombie’s entertaining shlock-and-sleaze fest House of a Thousand Corpses, where the character is precisely what the name entails–a satanic doctor willing to do the most malevolent acts–and adding to the film what it needs tonally and scares-wise, embracing the trashiness as well as the camp. From the name Dr. Esthetique alone, you notice that Blichfeldt is not treating The Ugly Stepsister with subtlety or poise. Instead, her approach is similar, in more ways than one, to Coralie Fargeat’s in The Substance.
The two directors, Blichfeldt and Fargeat, use a sledgehammer approach to their film’s messaging and body horror, where everything is in your face at all times. What they want to say with their genre works is more than evident from the get-go, and the two repeat their points on multiple occasions, which might bother many viewers who seek something more analytical or complex. In the case of The Ugly Stepsister, there is an excessive recirculation of the thematic thread and some of the narrative beats seen in previous Cinderella incarnations. However, Blichfeldt’s tonal control and utilization of genre convictions are so effective that you go along with the ride and its full unmasked commentary on aging, beauty standards, identity, and female independence. This is all accomplished through horrifyingly beautiful body horror constructions that will make the weak stomached queasy and cause their spines to tingle.
I don’t want to spoil any of the concoctions Blichfeldt and her team makes so that you see them yourself. They do not reinvent the wheel in the least. But these moments are so gripping because they are utilized in the story–and how they tie to the themes–and the tangibility they contain, making it feel real and pain-inducing. Blichfeldt is not afraid to let the camera linger on the harsh surgeries and beauty methods that Elvira endures. The images are heightened by Lea Mathilde Skar-Myren’s dual-toned role, performing a balancing act between delicateness and ferocity in her debut role. She gives way to the pain, and you feel how these methods are taking a toll on her heavily. This creates some much-needed empathy in a film that is very much reliant on the gnarly.
It is a key facet that permits the audience to connect with the story amidst its trashiness and lack of subtlety. Skar-Myren is tasked with a lot; this is a physical and demanding role, especially for a screen debut. So, it is very impressive that the young actress managed to work through all those demands and give The Ugly Stepsister some heart. Blichfeldt’s take on Cinderella delivers much shock and awe with its body horror elements and bloody finale when the clock strikes twelve. In the battle of excess and crudeness, there is plenty of entertainment to be had with this picture. A classic tale is turned upside down. Blichfedt ups the ante while maintaining the same dosage of empathy in the story. Always welcoming of genre pictures, the Berlin International Film Festival has opened its arms to The Ugly Stepsister. Will audiences do the same as well when the time comes?
Synopsis: In a time when pro wrestling for women was illegal all over the United States, a small town single mother embraces the danger as she dominates America’s most masculine sport and becomes the first million dollar female athlete in history.
Sports films, without a doubt, inspire audiences in ways that other genre films simply don’t. Whether they are epic underdog stories about breaking out of poverty or smashing the glass ceiling of gender norms, their ability to uplift us knows no limits. It’s no different for Ash Avildsen’s film Queen of the Ring, which recounts the triumphant life of Mildred Burke, America’s first million-dollar female athlete. A true display of the American Dream through the formidable elegance of a woman who isn’t afraid to take up space.
Queen of the Ring rolls the clock back to 1930s America, when Mildred Bliss, later known as Mildred Burke (Emily Bett Rickards), has dreams to make her life more than what it is. A single mother born of a single mother seeks to break into the world of wrestling after attending a show with said mother, Bertha (Cara Buono). Among the crowd of mostly men, Mildred’s eyes beam with excitement, stoking a fire inside of her that would burn for years to come. From the moment the match starts to its conclusion, Mildred knows that the ring is where she’s meant to be. Sitting in front of the two women is G. Bill Wolfe (Tyler Posey), who would go on to introduce Mildred to the man who would help make her dreams of becoming a wrestler a reality, his father, Billy Wolfe (Josh Lucas).
During this time in American history, it was illegal in parts of the country for women to wrestle one another, and a risk for trainers to take any on. After Mildred proves herself to Billy by taking out a man in the ring, he agrees to train her. As their professional relationship builds, so does their personal one, and it’s not a healthy environment, whatsoever. Mildred begins to dominate in the ring making money, but, more importantly, also starts making a name for herself. As she builds her career, she knows that to secure her wealth for herself and her son she must hold Billy to a promise he made to her, and marry her. As the couple grows further apart, the roster of female wrestlers grows, putting Mildred up against odds only a woman could face.
Avildsen has the tough job of bringing an athlete to the screen that unfortunately never received the recognition she deserved. Adapting the book of the same name by Jeff Lean, there are undoubtedly moments of Mildred’s life that will get lost within the wider cinematic story. What Avildsen does well in this film is not shying away from Mildred’s struggles, especially when it comes to gender-specific problems. These include marrying a man you don’t want to in order to have a stake in the business you built, or breaking the cycles of abuse, even when it feels impossible. There are plenty of social issues that are touched on, but also plenty of room for the showmanship and physicality of the sport to still have its time to shine.
Where Queen of the Ring truly makes its impact is with the film’s leading performances. Rickards makes it glaringly obvious that she was dedicated to this role; her physical performance alone makes this film worth watching. She fully transforms into her role as Mildred, capturing her fiery passion for her sport and the dominating force she is in the ring. Paired with her on-screen slime ball husband, Lucas plays Billy almost too well; his charm pulls you in, ignoring all his red flags. Their chemistry is what pushes the film along in its slower moments. The supporting cast has solid work from rival promoter, Jack Pfefer (Walton Goggins), and wrestling maven Gladys Gillem (Deborah Ann Woll), but their presence is short-lived and often overshadowed by some rather lackluster work from Posey, Buono, and Adam Demos as Gorgeous George.
The film makes sure to incorporate real female professional wrestlers, so if you are a pro wrestling fan, there will be more than a few faces to keep an eye out for. It’s striking to see so many muscular women on screen together, sharing the screen instead of competing for a spot. Kamille, Toni Storm, Trinity Fatu, Britt Baker, and more all command the screen in Queen of the Ring, showing off their physical abilities as the art form it is. Their inclusion in the film showcases how Mildred’s story transcends generations, how far female wrestling has come, and where it still can go. The stunt work with Rickards is mesmerizing; paired with the hazy glow of the ring lights, their work feels like a ballet routine that just so happens to be surrounded by ring ropes.
Mildred’s characterization in Queen of the Ring is mostly captivating, and she’s incredibly easy to root for. She’s young, beautiful, and a hard working single mother. Her path is a dangerous one, as she continuously places her body on the line for a job that is illegal for her to have. As her career grows, so does her amount of supporters; the film makes it a point to mention that she is a hero to everyone. The film falters in its pacing with telling Mildred’s story; many impactful moments later in the film feel like a “blink and you’ll miss it” scenario. The film lingers on more high-spirited in-the-ring fights, which makes for an entertaining film but leaves the more real elements of Mildred undiscovered.
The film works best when Mildred is in the ring grappling and sparring with whoever is unlucky enough to be her opponent. Visually, the film excels in this regard too, with cinematographer Andrew Strahorn capturing the glow and glamour of the squared circle showcasing the period seemingly effortlessly. Whether getting ready in the brightly lit beauty mirrors showing the drama behind the scenes, or the chaos in the ring while popping bones back into place, Strahorn’s work does a lot of heavy lifting. Unfortunately, it can only lift so much while Queen of the Ring packs one too many needle drops of modern rock covers that do not blend well with the film or its visuals at all.
Overall, Queen of the Ring is a story that is needed right now, as it shows the lengths those who are marginalized must go to be seen and heard. While the film suffers from its minor issues, its strong leading performances and dedication to the message are more than worth the price of admission.
Director: Paul Dektor Writers:Theodore Melfi, Christopher Wehner Stars: Peter Dinklage, Shirley MacLaine, Kimberly Quinn
Synopsis:Phil’s a dreamer. Most dreams don’t come true. Phil hates that. But that’s not going to stop Phil from dreaming.
The concept of the American Dream is a goal chased by many film protagonists. It’s a way for the audience to connect with a character. We’ve all chased this concept in some form or another. It could be entrepreneurship, a scientific breakthrough, athleticism, or some other form of amassing fame and wealth. What makes Phil (Peter Dinklage) different from the audience is that, as an economics professor, he knows that wealth is relative and assets are the key to real financial power.
It’s a very 1770s concept of the American Dream. If you own some land or property, you have the power. Phil believes that if he can somehow buy a house, things will start looking up for him. He wants to use an industrial sealant on the paper cut of his issues. This is where the film should keep its focus. Phil’s struggles with the concept of not coming close to affording a house. It’s a problem that many of us face because, unlike our parents, our first salaries didn’t afford us even the possibility of a down payment on a house. Yet, the script pulls a few threads and becomes a bit tangled.
Screenwriter Theodore Melfi and screen story creator Christopher Wehner throw a lot of ideas at the wall and try to make them all stick. In addition to his passion for economics, Phil is also an aspiring novelist. He’s a cliché in that when grad student Claire (Michelle Mylett) gushes over his paper, the two of them start a relationship. He starts another affair with Maggie (Kimberly Quinn) who is attempting to get him to back out of his deal with Astrid (Shirley MacLaine) because Maggie believes Phil’s scamming Astrid. These threads do resolve, but it’s almost like the writers tried to tell the story from a few different angles and decided on everything instead of sticking with one idea.
There are many scenes that don’t quite work, mainly because they haven’t been earned with enough set up. The end of the film especially doesn’t earn the big hearted wrap-up. It’s likely because there are too many ideas at play to really get emotionally involved with Phil or his problems. While we understand why he unravels, we don’t understand how he’s going to continue after becoming whole. Though, these problems don’t matter because the film, in spite of itself, is entirely watchable.
It feels like a dramedy from the late ’90s or early 2000s. Something mid-budget that would star two top actors at the time, or at least a commanding star presence on either side of the gender divide. It’s your basic package that feels cozy and lived in. It doesn’t do anything fancy or flashy, but moves forward pleasantly even with a prickly hero because we know he has a dream and a heart that can grow.
That coziness is thanks to the always curmudgeonly, but loveable Peter Dinklage. He’s an actor with the presence to make an uninteresting man into an intriguing one. He’s completely in command of this character like it’s one he has in his back pocket at all times. He’s played every kind of character one can, but it’s the simple ones like Phil that remind you how good he is. He can make anything more watchable.
All in all, American Dreamer has its moments. It’s not quite the next great film you’re going to watch, but if you want something to relax into that might suck you in in spite of yourself, American Dreamer is the one. There are much worse ways to spend 98 minutes.
On this episode of Chasing the Gold, Shadan and Erica discuss the 2025 Oscars and give their reaction to this year’s crop of winners! It was a wild show, a messy ceremony, but one heck of a ride. Lots to discuss regarding the 97th Academy Awards!
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!
Director:Alex Parkinson Writers:Mitchell LaFortune, Alex Parkinson, David Brooks Stars: Woody Harrelson, Simu Liu, Finn Cole
Synopsis:A true story that follows seasoned deep-sea divers as they battle the raging elements to rescue their crew mate trapped hundreds of feet below the ocean’s surface.
A film about a profession the vast majority of us know nothing about can be jargon heavy. Things like saturation diving, being able to work at extreme depths for longer periods, or DPO, dynamic positioning officer. There are lots of new words or familiar words with strange new meanings. Films like this get bogged down and lose some humanity, but there is something different about Last Breath. This film keeps its heart amongst the new environment we’re thrust into.
The story is about the divers in harm’s way, first and foremost. It helps that director and co-writer Alex Parkinson co-directed and wrote a documentary feature, that shares a title with this feature, that also covers this true story. He has first-hand knowledge of these people and while many interactions have been dramatized (as well as personal details change), the heart of the story beats because it has real people and their interviews behind it.
Writers Mitchell LaFortune, David Brooks, and Parkinson also stray from some of the tropes that are common to tough guys in tough jobs films. The hard edged veteran, Dave (Simu Liu), is serious and seemingly emotionless. Many other characters in the first scenes call him “The Vulcan,” like the logical Mr. Spock from the “Star Trek” franchise. Unlike a typical tough guy, though, Dave’s toughness comes from a genuine place of safety. He doesn’t want Chris (Finn Cole) thinking of his fiance, not because he’s mean, but because he’s in an extremely dangerous situation and needs the only other person down there with him to watch his back. Simu Liu is getting good at playing this type of character in these types of manly tearjerkers. See his work in last year’s Arthur the King. It’s a shame the rest of the plot, even if true, is too easily predictable.
Most of the rest of the story follows the pattern of similar stories. It’s a pretty boilerplate drama. There is tension and it gets your heart pumping, but there is a nagging feeling in the back of your head. There is a character’s life at stake and as the helpless crew in the ship and the helpless Duncan (Woody Harrelson) in the underwater diving bell waiting to pull his divers to safety, are tense, it never feels like it will surprise. Even as the climax occurs, there’s a sheen of predictability that never quite wears off. The falling action stalls and the climax plateaus for far too long. Last Breath was only ever going to end one way and, at a certain point, you wish the filmmakers would just get on with it.
Though, while you wait for something truly surprising to happen, you can marvel at the images of the environment. If more than a modicum of CGI was used, the effect was seamless. Parkinson and cinematographer Nick Remy Matthews captured some terrific underwater action that looks very practical and keeps the reality of the moment. Connecting those visuals with the incredible sound by mixer Aleksandar Bundalo and editor Archie Lamont creates a tremendous impact. There is a scene where the diving bell impacts the metal of the underwater manifold and the sound makes you jump and makes your teeth hurt simultaneously. Everything underwater was truly stunning.
A film like Last Breath isn’t setting out to reinvent cinema or to splash us with a great deal of melodrama. It sets out to tell a true story well and to make us empathize with a group of people that do the dirty work of keeping the houses of Europe supplied with heat. It’s an interesting story if a bit predictable. Last Breath is a film that reminds you that, as much as it sucks to sit and stare at TPS reports all day, at least you don’t have to risk your neck for a faceless natural gas company who doesn’t want to spend the money on robotics research and development that could prevent anyone from having to risk their life like this.
This week on Women InSession, we continue our James Bond discussion by diving into the Bond films of the 1980s! The decade began with a similar tone as the 60s and 70s as the Roger Moore era continued up until 1985, and then the franchise flipped the script. Once Timothy Dalton came on board, Bond took on a different vibe and planted the seeds for what came later with the Craig era. Fascinating decade.
Panel: Kristin Battestella, Zita Short
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!
InSession Film‘s writers share their final Oscar predictions in all 23 categories. The Academy Awards air on Sunday, March 2, at 7 PM ET/4 PM PT on ABC and Hulu.
Best Picture:
Anora: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Cameron K. Ritter, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Zach Youngs
The Brutalist: Megan Kearns, Erica Richards
A Complete Unknown
Conclave: JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Jaylan Salah, Maxance Vincent
Dune: Part Two
Emilia Pérez
I’m Still Here
Nickel Boys
The Substance
Wicked
Best Director:
Jacques Audiard (Emilia Pérez):
Sean Baker (Anora): JD Duran, Jacob Mauceri, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Zach Youngs
Brady Corbet (The Brutalist): Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Shadan Larki, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Maxance Vincent
Coralie Fargeat (The Substance): Megan Kearns, Jaylan Salah
James Mangold (A Complete Unknown):
Best Actor:
Adrien Brody (The Brutalist): Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent
Timothée Chalamet (A Complete Unknown): Lane Mills, Zach Youngs
Colman Domingo (Sing Sing): Megan Kearns
Ralph Fiennes (Conclave):
Sebastian Stan (The Apprentice):
Best Actress:
Cynthia Erivo (Wicked):
Karla Sofía Gascón (Emilia Pérez):
Mikey Madison (Anora): Shaurya Chawla, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Brian Susbielles
Demi Moore (The Substance): Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, JD Duran, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns,Shadan Larki, Erica Richards,Cameron K. Ritter,Jaylan Salah, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Fernanda Torres (I’m Still Here): Dave Giannini
Best Supporting Actor:
Yura Borisov (Anora):
Kieran Culkin (A Real Pain): Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Edward Norton (A Complete Unknown):
Guy Pearce (The Brutalist):
Jeremy Strong (The Apprentice):
Best Supporting Actress:
Monica Barbaro (A Complete Unknown):
Ariana Grande (Wicked): Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns
Felicity Jones (The Brutalist):
Isabella Rossellini (Conclave):
Zoe Saldaña (Emilia Pérez): Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Best Original Screenplay:
Anora: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry
The Brutalist:
A Real Pain: JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Lane Mills, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
September 5:
The Substance:
Best Adapted Screenplay:
A Complete Unknown:
Conclave: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Emilia Pérez:
Nickel Boys:
Sing Sing:
Best Animated Film:
Flow: Will Bjarnar, Shaurya Chawla, Megan Kearns, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Inside Out 2:
Memoir of a Snail:
Wallace & Gromit: Vengeance Most Fowl:
The Wild Robot: Brendan Cassidy,JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Shadan Larki, Brian Susbielles
Best International Film:
Flow:
I’m Still Here: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
The Girl with the Needle:
Emilia Pérez: Shadan Larki, Erica Richards
The Seed of the Sacred Fig:
Best Documentary Film:
Black Box Diaries:
No Other Land: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Jacob Throneberry, Zach Youngs
Porcelain War: Brian Susbielles, Maxance Vincent
Soundtrack to a Coup d’Etat:
Sugarcane:
Best Editing:
Anora: Jaylan Salah, Jacob Throneberry
The Brutalist:
Conclave: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Brian Susbielles, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Emilia Pérez:
Wicked:
Best Cinematography:
Jarin Blaschke (Nosferatu): Dave Giannini, Lane Mills
Lol Crawley (The Brutalist): Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dillon Gonzales, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Greig Fraser (Dune: Part Two): Megan Kearns, Jaylan Salah
Paul Guilhaume (Emilia Pérez):
Ed Lachman (Maria):
Best Visual Effects:
Alien: Romulus:
Better Man:
Dune: Part Two: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent
Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes: Lane Mills, Zach Youngs
Wicked:
Best Original Score:
The Brutalist: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Conclave: Megan Kearns
Emilia Pérez:
Wicked:
The Wild Robot: JD Duran
Best Original Song:
“El Mal” from Emilia Pérez: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Brian Susbielles, Zach Youngs
“The Journey” from The Six Triple Eight: Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Cameron K. Ritter, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent
“Like a Bird” from Sing Sing:
“Mi Camino” from Emilia Pérez:
“Never Too Late” from Elton John: Never Too Late:
Best Production Design:
The Brutalist:
Conclave:
Dune: Part Two:
Nosferatu:
Wicked: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Best Costume Design:
Lisy Christl (Conclave):
Linda Muir (Nosferatu):
Arianne Phillips (A Complete Unknown):
Paul Tazewell (Wicked): Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Janty Yates & Dave Crossman (Gladiator II):
Best Makeup & Hairstyling:
A Different Man:
Emilia Pérez:
Nosferatu:
The Substance: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Megan Kearns, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Erica Richards, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
Dune: Part Two: Will Bjarnar, Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Shadan Larki, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Cameron K. Ritter, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry
Emilia Pérez:
Wicked:
The Wild Robot:
Best Live-Action Short Film:
Screenshot
A Lien: Dave Giannini, Shadan Larki, Brian Susbielles,
Anuja: Brendan Cassidy, Shaurya Chawla, JD Duran, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Cameron K. Ritter, Jacob Throneberry, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs
I’m Not a Robot:
The Last Ranger:
The Man Who Could Not Remain Silent: Will Bjarnar, Dillon Gonzales
Best Animated Short Film:
Beautiful Men: Jacob Mauceri, Jacob Throneberry
In the Shadow of the Cypress: Will Bjarnar
Magic Candles
Wander to Wonder: Brendan Cassidy, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Shadan Larki, Lane Mills,Cameron K. Ritter, Brian Susbielles, Maxance Vincent, Zach Youngs,
Yuck!: Dillon Gonzales
Best Documentary Short Subject:
Death by Numbers:
I am Ready, Warden: Will Bjarnar, Shadan Larki, Erica Richards, Maxance Vincent
Incident:
Instruments of a Beating Heart:
The Only Girl in the Orchestra: Brendan Cassidy, JD Duran, Dave Giannini, Dillon Gonzales, Jacob Mauceri, Lane Mills, Cameron K. Ritter, Jaylan Salah, Brian Susbielles, Jacob Throneberry, Zach Youngs
There is a strong case to be made that we are in an auteur-driven era at the Academy Awards. The last two contests have heavily favored films driven by strong narrative voices behind the camera. There are examples in the previous ten years of filmmakers with their hands in many aspects of filmmaking. There are not just triple threats but quadruple and quintuple threats that have changed how we view film authorship.
Director Alonso Cuarón has been Oscar-nominated three times for editing. He won an Oscar for cinematography for Roma in addition to two wins for directing. He also has three nominations for producing (one being in the Live Action Short category) and four nominations for writing.
Director Bong Joon-ho won four Oscars in one night (International Feature Film, Original Screenplay, Director, and Picture) for his film Parasite, which tied a record held by Walt Disney since 1954. Everything Everywhere All at Once, made by the duo Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert, won seven Oscars; three wins were for the pair. Oppenheimer also won seven Oscars; two were awarded to director Christopher Nolan.
There are five films in this year’s Best Picture race that have the type of omnipresent filmmaking that has been successful in the last several years:
Anora is up for six awards, including four for filmmaker Sean Baker—Editing, Original Screenplay, Directing, and Picture.
The Brutalist is up for 10 awards, including three for Brady Corbet—Original Screenplay, Directing, and Picture.
A Complete Unknownis up for eight awards, with nominations for filmmaker James Mangold—Adapted Screenplay, Directing, and Picture.
Emilia Pérez is up for 13 awards, five of which filmmaker Jacques Audiard is up for—Original Song, International Feature Film, Adapted Screenplay, Directing, and Picture.
The Substanceis up for five awards, including three nominations for filmmaker Coralie Fargeat—Original Screenplay, Directing, and Picture.
The auteur has had an edge in the 21st century when the studios began to cede their places in the top categories to independent features. The studios stopped taking risks, and the independent distributors fell hard for the cults of personality behind certain filmmakers. Christopher Nolan is the rare studio auteur who can work his unique visions within the system.
However, knowing these films and their proponents, there must be those who prefer the collaborative method. It’s how films like Green Book and CODA have slipped through in this auteur era. Even though they are powered by the same passion, there isn’t a view that singular visions drove them. These films have a wide appeal and are well-made to boot.
That makes a case for Conclave taking the whole contest. The film is from a small distributor, but it feels like a film a larger, not-so-IP-obsessed studio could have made and championed 20 years ago. Conclave is a well-liked film by Edward Berger, who saw a wellspring of support for his last film, All Quiet on the Western Front. Conclave is also a political thriller that points toward common sense and progressing forward for the right reasons at a time when the president of the United States is wielding his pen like a king’s scepter. Conclave is what we wish could happen, what we want to happen in our political discourse. We want corrupt men to lose. We want the righteous to lead the pious. We want someone to be chosen for the betterment of all over, someone who will selfishly take for the enrichment of the few. Conclave is a movie of the moment more than the other visions in the Best Picture category.
Amidst controversies about actors’ past statements, the use of AI, and the creation of a safe space for people to work on intimate scenes, the devastation of Los Angeles, first by wildfires and now by dangerous floods, and the daily attacks on people, institutions, and allies by a poison penned little autocrat, Academy voters may want an idealized world. They may want a film with a world that takes logical steps toward the right side of history. Conclave is a nail-biter of a thriller with the panache of a filmmaker who elevates the genres he works in. He makes art that builds meaning in each frame. It’s a film well worthy of the title “Oscar Winner.”
Can Conclave win? Yes. Will it win? No. Despite any controversy or any contenders to come and challenge it, and despite Conclave‘s strong showing at the BAFTAs and SAG, Best Picture has long been in the hands of Anora. Since its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival last May, Anora has been the film on everyone’s lips. Emilia Pérez and The Substance were also there, but Anora came out the strongest of the pack. With wins at the Producers Guild Awards, Directors Guild Awards, Critics Choice Awards, and Writers Guild Awards, Anora is poised to be announced as Best Picture on Oscar night. Any film can spoil, of course (The Brutalist), but it’s only Anora’s to lose.
We’ve been hearing the same story for a few weeks: Anora is winning, at minimum, Best Picture and Best Director at the 97th Academy Awards. Coming off its massive wins at the Directors’ Guild Awards (DGA) and Producers’ Guild Awards (PGA), Sean Baker’s breakthrough film is poised to ride the wave of Palme d’Or winner at Cannes to Best Picture winner at the Oscars, a wave that is admittedly incredibly difficult to keep moving over a long awards season.
Anora’s Sean Baker
Before the domination at the DGAs and PGAs, it was still a tossup for Picture and Director, with some thinking it may split between Baker and Brady Corbet for The Brutalist. This thought was quickly tossed aside after the back-to-back wins for Anora, but now that the dust has settled, it may be time to revisit this theory.
Baker hasn’t exactly swept the awards circuit this year, with Corbet winning the director prize at the British Academy of Film and Television Arts (BAFTA) and the Golden Globes. Wicked’s Jon M. Chu took home the prize at the Critics’ Choice Awards (CCA). Winning DGA and PGA carries a lot of weight, to be sure, but Corbet’s package of Globes and BAFTA isn’t too shabby either.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention the implications of what happened at the Screen Actors’ Guild (SAG) Awards: Anora got absolutely blanked. Two of the film’s strongest chances of winning at the Oscars took a massive blow, with Demi Moore edging out Mikey Madison for Best Actress and Conclave upsetting and taking home Best Ensemble. If either or both of those had won, you could have gift-wrapped Picture and Actress to Anora. And yet, they went home empty-handed.
I’m sure you’re asking, what does SAG have to do with the Best Director race? The SAG results speak to a lack of support for Anora from the biggest voting branch in the Academy, the actors. There’s a world where the momentum for Anora slowed down at just the right time for other films to sneak in the back door and upset in a few categories. In fact, we’re looking at the potential for Anora to win zero awards on Oscar Sunday, which feels crazy. Allow me to put on the tin-foil hat for a moment.
SAG opened the door for Conclave in Best Picture, and Demi Moore’s performance in The Substance is locked to win Best Actress. Yura Borisov is not going to beat out Kieran Culkin for Supporting Actor, and the tides are rising for a Conclave win in Editing. The Substance and A Real Pain are both strong contenders in Original Screenplay, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see either pull off the win.
Finally, we come to Best Director. Baker certainly has the edge by way of precursors, but Corbet’s resumé is strong. I also can’t shake that when you look at both films purely from a direction standpoint— and toss out any narratives about the directors themselves or their past work—it’s not even a contest with the better direction. Corbet’s authorial vision is so masterful that the work speaks for itself.
The Brutalist’s Brady Corbet
Final Prediction:
I am officially committing to the tin-foil hat theory that maybe Anora isn’t as strong as we thought a few weeks ago, and the support waned at the right time of Oscar voting for weird things to ensue. It’s been a doozy of an awards season, with twists and turns we haven’t seen in a few years. There’s one more surprise left for us, and it comes with Brady Corbet taking home the gold for a true masterpiece, The Brutalist. I hope you’ll fashion your own tin-foil hats and join me in the pursuit of chaos.
In March, Criterion again has a packed release with four new entrants and two re-editions, with nothing as recent as 1989. Charlie Chaplin has a new film, one that is underrated, while an independent rom-com and a sequel to the legendary story of Godzilla also come aboard. While a ‘70s noir with Gene Hackman is also introduced, two classics get the 4K re-edition, one a French white-knuckle thriller from seventy years ago, and another being the introduction of Michael Mann.
A Woman of Paris (1923)
A new entrant from Charlie Chaplin; this is one of his more dramatic films and only appears as a cameo, giving the lead role to Edna Purviance playing a village girl who moves to the city of lights. It is the Jazz Age and the girl becomes the mistress of a wealthy businessman and gets involved with a rivaling suitor. The movie wasn’t received well because of Chaplin’s turn to a more dramatic story, but retrospective critics have realized it to be one of his most underappreciated movies.
The Wages of Fear (1953)
The first of two re-editions is Henri-Georges Clouzot’s masterful suspenseful suicide mission of four men in Latin America looking to make money for a ticket to freedom. With a tank of explosive nitroglycerin heading to put out a fire at an American oil refinery (a critique of American exploitation of third-world countries), the perils along the way test each man against each other and the elements. With a new cover, this film continues to pack the same intensity as it did seventy years ago with Yves Montand in a star-making role.
Night Moves (1975)
Gene Hackman plays a private eye who is hired to find the missing daughter (Melanie Griffith) of an actress, traveling from Los Angeles to the Florida Keys. It becomes more than a family drama, however, when he finds out a much more disturbing plot is the center of it all. Director Arthur Penn delves for us into the crossing paths that lead to the many turns without an exit in the shadow of disillusionment from what is the truth post-Watergate. Susan Clark, Jennifer Warren, Edward Binns, and James Woods co-star.
Thief (1981)
The second re-edition is Michael Mann’s sensational debut feature about an ex-con and safecracker (James Caan) looking to leave that life. He and his long-term girlfriend (Tuesday Weld) have adopted a baby and will be away from the criminal underworld after one last job. However, his plans are threatened by a mob boss and corrupt cops who seek to hold him for indefinite break-ins and threaten his family. Set in the streets of Chicago, Mann makes a slick neo-noir Mann’s path to an incredible career with the same smarts in his filmography.
Choose Me (1984)
From writer-director Alan Randolph, an erotic rom-com at a bar lures in a group of people who soon get entangled in passionate affairs and one-night stands. A stranger begins conversing with a prostitute who is scared about being committed in a relationship while a sex expert who studies the actions of others gets too involved with the stranger and prostitute’s actions from their first encounter. Genevieve Bujold, Keith Carradine, and Lesley Ann Warren star in this analysis of sex in the decade mixes with the soundtrack of slow love jams by Teddy Pendergrass.
Godzilla vs. Biollante (1989)
In a new generation of Godzilla movies, this story takes a new turn in what would become a bigger threat than Godzilla itself. The new threat is a mutant plant made from rose cells, the dead daughter of a scientist, and Godzilla itself. This leads all of the corporations to fight for control of this, but it has become way too big for them. Now in a new age of special effects, the film released a new bold vision which later versions of the story could tell while remaining faithful to its origins up to recently with Godzilla Minus One.
On this episode, JD and Brendan discuss the new documentary from Questlove in Sly Lives! (aka The Burden of Black Genius)! This film has been under the radar, but it’s one of our most anticipated of 2025. Questlove’s last feature documentary, Summer of Soul, was one of the best of its year and we were deeply curious to see how he was going to follow that one up.
Review: Sly Lives! (aka The Burden of Black Genius) (4:00) Director: Questlove
Synopsis: Betrayal spawns an unexpected night through the streets of Tokyo for two strangers left questioning the meaning of life and love.
Is romance going out of style? This was the first thought I had while watching One Night in Tokyo, the latest film from director Joshua Woodcock about identity, loneliness, and communication in fast-paced, modern cities. In this film, Japan is the background to Sam’s (Reza Emamiyeh) loneliness as he is ditched by his girlfriend when he sets foot in a country he knows nothing about,Tokyo to be precise. Sam then goes to pick up his friend’s girlfriend, Ayaka (Tokiko Kitagawa), the polar opposite of him, and as they navigate the ever-bustling city together, something changes as they navigate one another rather than the city itself.
The intimacy and the coziness of the film will strike a chord with many modern viewers. As it is available now on VOD and digital, it’s not simply a Valentine’s Day special, but a reflective film on the state of modern dating, specifically finding and losing love in overactive cities. While Sam may not seem as relatable, Ayaka has that modern girl vibe about her that makes her both a compelling and an interesting character to follow. Both Kitagawa and Emamiyeh do a great job of portraying the nuances and complexities of their characters, though. Emamiyeh plays more on the internal, his reactions are held back and his emotions are restrained. It suits the character; the lonely, “nice guy” traveling to a foreign country only to have his heart crushed by his mean girlfriend. Kitagawa plays the vibrant local. She embodies the free spirit of someone navigating their own city with confidence and jubilance until she meets a grim surprise, and even her reaction is more externalized, her anger palpable and visible. It’s evident how the off-screen harmony has seeped into the on-screen magic and the result is two characters that viewers slowly warm up to their presence, just as they find themselves time after time.
Films about lonely people falling in and out of love in busy cities are not new. We’ve all had our In The Mood For Love, Past Lives, and Paris, Texas moments. So does this premise work here? The answer is complex. For starters, One Night in Tokyo is its own demon, it operates on its set of rules and filmworld logic. But it feels trapped in the same realm that other films from that particular subgenre, lonely lovers meet in busy towns, without adding any unique angle or spark of its own. There is, of course, the keen interest that Woodcock gives to the Japanese cast, and the emphasis on the agency of the female Japanese character so that it’s not all a White man’s quest in the big, orientalist Western version of a country. It’s not two White people loving one another while the foreign country works as a background to the emotional shared experience like in Lost in Translation.
Simple creativity within a formulaic genre does not a great film make, and Woodcock smartly sticks to all the proper elements of making a similar story about well-established themes without veering into innovation that may strip the film of its rightful place in said category. This may take from the surprise element that one may secretly desire tuning into a film like that, but it also creates the proper ambience, especially given how the two attractive actors take the script and turn it into a proper, casual dialogue between two lonely people sitting in a bar.
In this feature, both Sam and Ayaka retain their agency, and have a command of their situation. Their connection is mutually held by their clinging to their linguistic otherness from one another, Sam’s English to Ayaka’s Japanese. The most important scene of the film unfolds into two lonely people in a bar, rambling to themselves while no one understands the other, and their language barrier stands between them like a mountain of misunderstandings. It is only when Sam decides to use a phone application for voice translation, that the walls between them start melting, and their barriers shake as they realize how more in common they are rather than different.
One Night in Tokyo is a subtle reassuring comfort movie, a too-slow burn at times, but the chemistry between the leads is highly rewarding.
While still on the ballot, it feels safe to write that Karla Sofía Gascón is out of contention for Best Actress. The late-breaking, but still in time to sway the voters, scandal has poisoned her historic nomination. Though stranger things have happened at the Oscars, Gascón winning Best Actress is extremely unlikely. The final four women, though, are not in as close a race as they may seem.
Each actress has picked up several awards from both precursors and critics groups, but Demi Moore has claimed the largest share of the latest awards. Despite The Substance’s genre trappings and its divisiveness among cinephiles, this film has captured the hearts and minds of awards voters in a way none of us could have imagined, and some of us had only just hoped for.
Strange, avant-garde, and boundary-pushing films have been sneaking into more of the sacred canonical spaces recently. Along with them come the daring and transformative power of the actors on screen. This push toward a wider net of what an awards film can be mixed with an actress who has never gotten her due is the perfect alchemy for where the Oscars and the Academy, at large, currently stand. Half the votes for Moore will be from the new school. Half will be the old school. To claim a frontrunner is not to count out all other nominees, though.
Fernanda Torres has become a strong contender, stunning at the Golden Globes by winning Best Actress in a Drama. With the Globes’ split categories, all her competition at the Oscars was in the Comedy or Musical category.
Since the award season started, Cynthia Erivo has been on every list of Best Actress contenders. Many thought that Wicked would be overshadowed by its release date partner, Gladiator II, but the reviews, the accolades, and the achievements of Wicked have been solid. The one nagging thing that could pull Erivo down is that her performance is one-half of a partnership. Wicked has two lead performances, and while Erivo’s Elphaba takes center stage more often, without Ariana Grande’s Galinda/Glinda, there is no Wicked.
Mikey Madison is so highly talented. She sheds all pretenses and becomes Ani through and through. It’s such a raw and genuine performance that it has to be recognized. Yet, as she is still early in her career, it’s a performance that she will have to live up to repeatedly for the rest of her career. If she has one thing against her, the Academy may see this nomination as a test. Can she do it again? Can she build a better Ani? As good as she is, they will want more from her with her next lauded performance.
That leaves the legacy/career achievement/victory lap, whatever you want to call it, Oscar going to Demi Moore. It would be one thing if this were a year with a thin field, and her performance was good enough. But, this staggering performance in this bountiful year of great performances by actresses shows that despite what modifier the press will attach to her win the next day, Demi Moore will have won a well-deserved award.
For the 40 years prior to his retirement in 2004, Gene Hackman was a force of nature on film. No other actor, before or since, has had the ability to both be wholly recognizable as himself while also committing so deeply to a character. Hackman could pull off high drama and broad comedy with equal perfection. He developed a boiling, roiling ball of rage that translated to each medium with ease and familiarity.
With his unique abilities, Hackman attempted to show us the depths of tough guys and the nuances of masculinity with his rugged everyman quality. It didn’t always work, but when he found that ferocious spark or when you could see the mischievous twinkle in the corner of his eye, it was an arresting sensation. You were hooked.
Within his insurmountable well of talent he created and perfected many indelible roles. The doggedness of Popeye Doyle in The French Connection. The paranoia of Harry Caul in The Conversation. The campy glee of Lex Luthor in Superman and its sequels. The pride and determination of Norman Dale in Hoosiers. The menace of Little Bill Daggett and Herod in Unforgiven and The Quick and the Dead respectfully. The steadfast commitment to duty of Ramsey in Crimson Tide. The jealousy and pettiness of Royal Tenenbaum in The Royal Tenenbaums.
We all have a role of his that we will always revisit. For me, it’s Royal Tenenbaum. Royal is the kind of late career role that showcases the breadth of an actor’s many talents. It’s a bit softer and more esoteric than many of Hackman’s roles. He seamlessly and believably moves Royal from cad to dad without ever dropping who Royal is at his core. It’s the kind of role that proves forgiveness is possible if the one in need of it puts in the work.
In the coming days, many of us will revisit favorites or discover films we may have missed. Gene Hackman has left behind a breadth of work that is powerfully affecting and furiously funny. He was an actor who defied expectations and made films better by being a part of them.
