Director: Timo Tjahjanto
Writer: Timo Tjahjanto
Stars: Aurora Ribero, Hana Malasan, Taskya Namya

Synopsis: Codename 13, a 17-year-old assassin, is suspended due to a sloppy mission in Japan. She meets 11-year-old Monji, who loses his mother, and sets out to rescue him.

Action is back with a bloody vengeance. Fans of non-stop brawls, gunfights and chases have certainly been spoiled in recent years. Between the John Wick franchise and an occasional burst of excitement out of nowhere with films like Nobody or Monkey Man, one gets the sense that there are still people fighting to give us quality action. But of course, there’s the unfortunate reality that most major films being marketed as blockbuster action flicks simply don’t have the juice. Now, I have no intention of naming names of any kind. But it does feel essential to point out that, for the most part, general action fare feels like a barren wasteland. Lucky for us, Indonesian filmmaker Timo Tjahjanto saw the desperate plea for help as a call to action. And with his latest film, The Shadow Strays, celebrating its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival, it feels like he is taking on a challenge. It’s been 6 years since his last full-blown action bonanza, The Night Comes For Us. And it appears as if he saw the last half decade of action filmmaking and decided to overload the senses as a reminder of how good we can still have it. We shouldn’t settle for filmmakers cutting around action when there are those who do all they can to avoid cutting altogether! Even more, this film serves as a reminder that action films don’t need to settle for hollow scripts. Too often do people try and reduce genre fare to being less than. What’s most exciting about The Shadow Strays is that, even putting action aside, there’s plenty to latch onto that makes for an enriching and exciting experience.

Over the course of the film, its title kept popping into my head. I began thinking about what people think of when they think of the word ‘shadow.’ There’s the most likely answer: it’s what happens when light shines against something. There’s the more fantastical answer: a sort of darkness that looms over light and goodness. And then, there’s the metaphorical answer: something that follows us around, regardless of whether or not we want it to. Everything, by that logic, has a shadow attached to it. And that’s most certainly true for basically all the principal characters of The Shadow Strays. And aside from just being a flat-out badass title to have, one begins to question what it really means. As Tjahjanto introduces us to more of the characters, the crux of this film, and the beauty of its title, begins to take shape.

It’s in the extravagant opening sequence that we meet Agent 13 (Aurora Ribero). It feels more apt to say we just witness her awesome capabilities. Covered in head-to-toe armor and weaponry, she is part of an elite group of cold-blooded assassins known only as the Shadow. And from this stellar introduction, she certainly lives up to the namesake and fright bestowed upon her by a random henchman explaining why his boss (and their entire organization) needs to be worried. Following the brutal mayhem that ensues, one thing leads to another before Agent Umbra (Hana Malasan) has to come in and clean up the rest of the mess made. Because of this, 13 is sent to Jakarta to await further instructions while Umbra, her instructor, goes on another mission. While this is very much a film about Agent 13 and her eventual quest for vengeance, Tjahjanto certainly loves his stories revolving around parallel journeys clashing into one another in brutal fashion. In what feels like one of the few missteps of The Shadow Strays, we are occasionally pulled away to see what Umbra is dealing with internally. 

These sequences feel a bit more like cutaways expanding the world of the film rather than actual parallel narratives. To be clear, these scenes following Umbra serve a definite purpose. And they look damn great from an action filmmaking perspective. But I would argue that these scenes invariably convey the same message as the rest of the film follows 13’s journey, but to a slightly lesser effect. Now, it’s also important to note that despite feeling this way, the climax of The Shadow Strays still strikes you like a cannonball. At no point during this film will you feel bored. It is a non-stop assault on the senses, with Tjahjanto setting up his fights everywhere from a small kitchen to an empty warehouse, or from a nightclub to the innards of a cargo plane. And that’s just the tip of the iceberg. It cannot be overstated how cleverly his fights are structured. Beyond relying on exciting camera movement and blood-splatter galore, the wide array of Chekhov’s “insert common item to later be used as a deadly weapon here” commands the audience to remain rapt at attention with each scene. If Tjahjanto shows his fighters as individuals who are willing and able to use anything around them as part of their arsenal, it instantly conditions his audience to keep an eye out for anything and everything.

So, as the film comes barreling to a close, we once again return to the idea of a shadow. What happens when something we thought would be attached to us forever strays away? When a child sees the body of his mother taken away in a bag by police? When a student is no longer able to abide by the immoral pledges her master forced her to take? When a son, who has long been under the thumb of his domineering father, decides to take matters into his own hands, and set off a catastrophic chain of events? In many ways, The Shadow Strays feels like a film about parenthood and the eventual need to relinquish control. When the shadow strays from what it’s connected to, fate will take over. We must eventually let it stray if that’s what’s called for. To hold onto it with all our might clearly causes a much larger set of issues. It’s not easy to let go; but it does feel necessary at times. To let go of something can often make us stronger than we ever thought possible. And make no mistake, there will be few characters in cinema this year that will be stronger (not just physically, but mentally and emotionally) as the all-time legend, Agent 13.

The Shadow Strays celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. For more information on the film, head right here.

Grade: B+

Director: David Mackenzie
Writer: Justin Piasecki
Stars: Willa Fitzgerald, Lily James, Sam Worthington

Synopsis: A broker of lucrative payoffs between corrupt corporations and the individuals who threaten them breaks his own rules when a new client seeks his protection to stay alive.

Relay, the new David Mackenzie film celebrating its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival, opens with a sequence that feels made for me. We follow Hoffman (the always wonderful Matthew Maher) into a diner on Houston street in New York. The camera stays over his shoulder for as long as possible until he arrives at his seat. He’s clearly looking for somebody, but the heat in his eyes conveys he might find something (or someone) he doesn’t want to see. A massive, blacked-out SUV then pulls up alongside the diner and out steps a businessman played by the great Victor Garber! The two sit at the same table, one with menace in his eyes and the other with sadness and pain. The two discuss exactly what’s going to happen next. And Maher delivers a line that, within the opening minutes of the film, details all that Relay is setting out to examine. “I thought evil would look different… but evil just looks like everyone else.”

Relay is more than a film about whistleblowers. Instead, it delves into the murky lines of morality in spaces where whistleblowing occurs. Tom (an incredible Riz Ahmed) is a man who has set himself up to make money in that space between right and wrong. And in turn, the viewer is able to peel away layer after layer of thoughts and judgements as we learn more about what’s occurring. Even better, for large portions of the film, Tom barely utters a word. I would argue one of the great missteps of the film is that he speaks at all. Having him remain silent would have been excellent for two reasons. First, it’s admirably bold, and works exceptionally well whenever the film operates in silence. Secondly, Ahmed is delivering such brilliance with his eyes alone. He’s the type of actor who doesn’t need extended monologues. He arguably works best in the spaces between dialogue, and it would have been so exciting to see a film capitalize on such a trait. Regardless, it’s not as if Tom speaks a ton in this film. At least, he doesn’t do so with his own mouth.

To protect his identity, and because it makes for an interesting conceit of the film, Tom uses a phone-relay service. Designed for those who are hard of hearing, relay services are used as a middle-man for phone calls. A message is typed to the service, the third party on the phone reads the message, and then does so back-and-forth for the remainder of the call. Upon hanging up, all information from the call and callers is wiped away by law. Where Tom comes in is when both parties need representation to broker a deal between whistleblower and company. He ensures neither party receives blowback or harm of any kind, and in turn he makes more than a pretty penny. And it’s in his internal dilemma, and the overall hook of the film, that Relay questions integrity.

It shouldn’t come as a shock to anybody that companies do all they can to protect their bottom-line. One doesn’t need to turn to movies about whistleblowing to understand that. But what happens when whistleblowers decide that the pressure becomes too much? Sarah (Lily James) finds herself in that exact predicament. After being clearly monitored non-stop and having her car set ablaze, all she wants to do is return the sensitive information she has in her possession. And while it may not be the most noble of actions, Relay poses the question of who are we to judge? In the face of such instigation and genuine threat from companies that only care about numbers on a spreadsheet, can she be blamed for wanting to simply return to the mundanity of everyday life? It’s certainly a noble act to expose fraud and criminal behavior in the hopes of bettering the world, but there is an undeniable cost. And coming face-to-face with it is understandably frightening. One of the greatest strengths of Relay is conveying that menace and the fear that it brings silently. So rarely relying on actual one-on-one conversations during scenes of dialogue, the almost-flat delivery of the phone-relay service makes for a film that emphasizes how companies can oftentimes dehumanize those that work for them (or that threaten their bottom-line).

When the film operates in this moral gray area between Tom and Sarah and the goons sent by the company (a terrifically fun Sam Worthington and Willa Fitzgerald), Relay is a tightly-wound thriller. It’s only in the third act when it clearly over-extends itself more than a bit and goes off-the-rails. So much of Relay is exciting from a filmmaking perspective because it places an emphasis on sparsity. That is its biggest strength, and between having Tom talk more and more as the film goes on, as well as leaning fully into action that falls flat, it almost feels as if Relay isn’t all that confident in the goodwill it has amassed over the course of its runtime. Within the final 15 minutes, Relay finds itself puttering to the finish line. Still, the journey up to those last couple of sequences is exciting. Nobody could ever convince me Ahmed wearing a variety of fun costumes in a quasi-heist thriller set in New York wouldn’t be worth a watch. The rest of its characters may not have all that much to do, but what’s present is serviceable enough. The glimmers of thrill and excitement audiences have come to expect from a filmmaker like Mackenzie are definitely felt. In that regard, Relay will likely be well-received despite its flaws both obvious and subtle.

Relay celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. For more information on the film, head right here.

Grade: C

Director: Frederik Louis Hviid
Writer: Anders Frithiof August
Stars: Gustav Giese, Reda Kateb, Amanda Collin

Synopsis: In 2008, a group of men from Denmark and across Europe pull off the biggest heist of all time on Danish soil. Kasper, a boxer with few chances left in life, is offered the opportunity to plan the robbery by its foreign initiators.

Many great heist films hinge on something more than just the crime itself. And the thrill of a mega-heist alone obviously draws people in for good reason. But the staying power usually stems from something far more relatable. There’s a human element to many all-timers. Heat is about two diametrically opposed men who share the inability to shed their obsessions and drive in the face of “normalcy.” Inside Man is a panicked look at post-9/11 New York and how it broke down essential factors of daily life. Ambulance is, in many ways, an ode to service workers and veterans alike that are repeatedly served the short end of the stick by the country they call home. The Quiet Ones, celebrating its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival, follows in the footsteps of being a heist movie about something more than just pure greed. Frederik Louis Hviid’s film is based on the true story of Denmark’s biggest robbery in history, which took place in 2008 during the looming economic crisis. Opening with an intense one-take sequence, the film pulls its viewer in quickly, and then almost instantly shifts to the drama that will propel every decision made for the rest of the film. Because if The Quiet Ones makes anything clear, it’s that emotion is inextricably linked with the decisions we make.

A fairly common criticism many throw at films they watch is usually in regards to how certain characters behave in certain situations. Frankly, it’s ridiculous. There are obviously instances wherein a poor script can lead to odd character decisions. But in the case of a well-made and competent film, the answer is simple: it’s necessary for the film to proceed. The character in a slasher film needs to go check out the noise they heard because that’s what the film calls for! And the most interesting element of The Quiet Ones grapples with this very idea time and time again. It’s a film where a large set of characters all make decisions based on their emotions. The reason for this? Because they’re all human. As shown very early in the film, the opening of the film takes place during a robbery where a radio program comments on the impending national worry of a financial collapse. “There’s no cause for concern” is stated verbatim by an official within the banking industry. For those who have some knowledge of financial history, or have merely read the logline of the film, and see what follows in the aftermath of being ambushed, it becomes clear that Hviid is tapping into something potent. Something that throws any sense of rationale out the window: desperation. It’s a powerful feeling that can overcome even the most sensible of individuals, and few can genuinely imagine what that must feel like in the face of possible death or injury. As this genuinely thrilling sequence comes to its climax, the film immediately cuts to a year later where we meet Kasper (Gustav Giese) and his family. They’re at the table eating, and although it’s never stated directly, one gets the sense that things aren’t picture perfect in the household. Unfortunately, this is the first sign of a script that shows where it is a bit underwritten; particularly with regards to how it handles its three major female characters.

On one hand, some may be able to chalk up the refusal to delve into marital tension too deeply as being a sign of confidence. And in certain ways, that’s understandable. There’s more than enough evidence to point out how The Quiet Ones relies on silence and imagery to infer both emotion and thought. This is also a film that is very much about how the internalization of emotion leads to despair and rash decision making. So again, the film doesn’t need to outright depict trouble in the household for the audience to understand why these actions are being taken. The development of both wives in this film are cast aside in favor of their husbands either refusing to open up, or being the victim of physical and emotional abuse by Slimani (Reda Kateb). This issue of the script reveals itself mostly in how little it seems to utilize security guard/aspiring cop Maria (Amanda Collin). At first, she is introduced in a way one might expect to see a parallel journey of sorts. It’s a classic cat-and-mouse set-up! Yet she is missing for large swaths of the movie, only to pop up in the third act in a way that resembles something closer to sequel bait than something emotionally resonant. It makes sense within the context of the film, and is certainly interesting, but if her character were more present, or at least felt, throughout the film, it would make for a more intriguing conclusion. But that’s not to say the third act of this film is underwhelming.

The third act feels stellar for a variety of reasons. There is a lot of planning in this film, and it’s not afraid to take its time (albeit to a fault at times). But upon the arrival of the heist, all hell breaks loose in via stylized direction and Hviid’s thesis statement for the film. Kasper, for the most part, has shown himself to be introspective and confident in his own degree of meticulous planning. But as soon as the first sign of a problem rears its head, something in him snaps. And we begin to see cracks in the armor that were only alluded to prior. He makes rash decisions to prove a point. He refuses to leave money on the floor (literally). At no point in the final act of this film does Kasper make the right decision, save one. And even that is only brought upon by a grave mistake he made. But with that decision Kasper makes, it speaks to his true sense of self, and the point Hviid is trying to make in the first place. Desperation, and the stubbornness that comes with it, isn’t always necessarily a bad thing. It’s completely understandable, and it is felt that Kasper tries to do the right thing despite feeling like every choice he makes goes wrong for him. Perhaps this potentially life-saving choice in question will also go wrong for him. But it nevertheless shows that, when the chips are down, he was doing what he felt was necessary to defuse a situation. Despite all his personal worries and fears leading to a cascading sequence of events that will only bury him someday, it pushes him forward to the point of doing the right thing. Sure, the right thing in this instance might be the lesser of two evils, but for Kasper, it no longer appears that the action is the juice (apologies for invoking Heat twice, but it’s always on the brain!) For Kasper, this desperation pushed him to the point of acknowledging what kind of person he wants to be.

To close out the climax of the film, there’s an absolutely stellar chase sequence. It slams the camera right in the faces of these thieves all packed up in a small car. The audience is left completely disoriented and frightened at what exactly is transpiring aside from hearing shouts and occasional bursts of light. Throughout The Quiet Ones, Hviid shows his ability to command a viewer’s attention through really well-constructed set pieces. At moments where the script feels a bit lacking, the visuals and character dynamics in these sequences make up for it. This is a very serviceable heist film that at the very least attempts to rise to greater heights. It may not always reach them, but as a viewer, the peak is certainly more visible than many heist films that don’t even make the attempt.

The Quiet Ones celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival.

For more information on the film, head right here.

Grade: C

Director: Jason Reitman
Writers: Gil Kenan, Jason Reitman
Stars: Rachel Sennott, Dylan O’Brien, Willem Dafoe

Synopsis: At 11:30pm on October 11th, 1975, a ferocious troupe of young comedians and writers changed television forever. Find out what happened behind the scenes in the 90 minutes leading up to the first broadcast of Saturday Night Live.

Saturday Night Live! It’s the late-night show that began one fateful (Saturday) night in 1975. In 2024, about to be celebrating its 50th season, it’s a show that practically everybody in America knows about. While most people likely don’t watch it live anymore, opting to instead watch it the following morning on social media, it’s still one of the most iconic television programs of all time. And here comes a film about that amazing night in television history, which backs up the case that it must be important! In Jason Reitman’s film Saturday Night, celebrating its Canadian premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival, we see the inner-workings of the machine that brought the world some of the most famous and celebrated names in comedy history and beyond. There’s no place like show business, where the show must always go on one way or the other. The film opens with a quote from SNL-creator Lorne Michaels: “The show doesn’t go on because it’s ready; it goes on because it’s 11:30.” Despite that, it never really feels like there’s any sort of stakes. That may read a bit harsh, but needless to say that despite its flaws, there is much to enjoy out of Saturday Night. 

On a very base level, there’s an inherent interest in seeing how the sausage gets made. With a wildly stacked cast full of up-and-coming stars ready to be thrown into the limelight, Saturday Night does capture some sense of pressure. The film has such a frenetic pace that it’s manufactured to be tense. On one hand, it does make every scene feel as if whichever actor being focused on is doing all they can to command the attention of Reitman and cinematographer Eric Steelberg. Only through sheer charisma will that camera remain steady and hold on deploying its next whip pan. Cooper Hoffman enters the film like a stone-cold movie star. Between his introduction here and in Licorice Pizza, the man simply knows how to enter a film, and we’re all luckier for it. Cory Michael Smith delivers, without question, one of the most star-making performances of the year. He commands your attention and delivers comedy excellence in a way that is bound to keep him on our screens for a long while. Dylan O’Brien runs around the studio in his ever-so-charming way that proves himself, once again, to be the sweetheart of anybody who knows his work. Legendary actors like Willem Dafoe and J.K. Simmons, even with limited screen time, remind everybody just how much they can stun us with mere minutes to work with. There’s no weak link from the ensemble of Saturday Night. One can only hope that this, much like the show itself, catapults a lot of these individuals into movie stardom. There’s a lot going on within the famed halls of studio 8H during the 100 minutes of this film, and Reitman will be damned if he wastes a second on anything but greatness out of his performers. Before you know it, the camera races off to the next most exciting thing occurring. This way of captivating the camera (and obviously the audience) is something that does work in favor of the excitement. But it does also feel like it harms the overall result of Saturday Night.

The biggest issue seems to stem from the feeling that Saturday Night sort of fizzles out. By the time we get to a moment that should be full of triumph and “I told you so!”, it’s instead met with a shrug and a small curiosity as to what the final image shown will be. From a purely visceral perspective, Saturday Night does work. It’s technically very well-made and structured with a ton of care and precision despite all the chaos it captures. The constant thrashing of the camera and running from scene to scene does convey a sense of thrill that, by the time the show goes live, you do let out a great sigh of relief. But on a character level, there’s seemingly no time provided for anybody to breathe. Even the film’s most central dilemma, an awkward post-marital discussion between Lorne Michaels (Gabriel LaBelle) and Rosie Shuster (Rachel Sennott), leaves little to no impact on the film or seemingly either character. They’re both excellent as performances, and in the quiet moments they share, you do want to see more. But these scenes of internal dilemma, peppered throughout the film, don’t dive anywhere near deep enough to make this cast feel three-dimensional on an individual level. Sure, they have a little bit of every type of comedy to showcase in their repertoire. That lifts the entire ensemble up. But as far as individual dramatic tension goes, it’s arguably the weakest part of Saturday Night. And if this massive cast proved anything in this film, it’s that they could certainly handle the weight. Let them shine and the film would shine in return!

Even still, it feels impossible to deny the simple pleasures of Saturday Night. This is straight-up one of the funniest films of the year. It operates best as a full-blown comedy, and hopefully, inspires studios to put more in theaters. The very loose, jazzy score (which was composed and produced live) from legendary artist Jon Batiste adds to the frenzy of the film. Coupled with the warm 16mm photography from Steelberg, Saturday Night looks, sounds, and feels incredible. It appears that, more than anything, Reitman had more interest in recreating this fateful moment in history rather than really examining it from angles previously untouched. There’s not really any issue with that, I suppose. As written, the film certainly feels as if a ton of care was placed into it; and that all pays off. But for a film that very deliberately and repeatedly points out the often-essential nature of taking risks in art, Saturday Night doesn’t take all that many. But if you’re coming to the movies looking for an escape that will purely entertain, it would feel like a lie to say Saturday Night isn’t an excellent choice.

Saturday Night celebrated its Canadian premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. For more information on the film, head right here.

Grade: C+

Director: Anderson .Paak
Writers: Anderson .Paak, Khaila Amazan
Stars: Anderson .Paak, Jee Young Han, Soul Rasheed

Synopsis: Follows a washed-up musician who jumps at the chance to capitalize on his long-lost son’s stardom for his own renaissance, but learns that fatherhood is much more than stardom.

It’s 2014. My friend PRiM tells us about an album called Venice, by an artist named Anderson .Paak. He’s from California, he has one of the most distinct voices I’ve ever heard from an artist, and the music absolutely rocks. A year later, that same artist pops up all over the long-awaited album from Dr. Dre, Compton. Every single feature from him on that album is different, and it’s exciting recognition for our friend group for having listened to him a year before the masses got a hold of him. A year later, in 2016, .Paak drops his album Malibu, and that’s the end of any semblance of obscurity for an artist we had quickly fallen in love with the past two years. He absolutely exploded. He was everywhere we looked; every feature was better and more exciting than the last. His creativity was working off the charts. He consistently shifted any expectations the public might have had about him. With each new project he released, whether solo, or with Knxwledge as “NxWorries” or Bruno Mars as “Silk Sonic”, .Paak is an artist who was able to pivot into new and exciting sounds without ever losing what made him unique. Now, 10 years later, attending my first Toronto International Film Festival, I was able to see K-Pops! celebrate its world premiere and serve as .Paak’s directorial feature film debut. In those ten years, it’s surreal to look back at the journey and see what led to this point in time. And in that regard, and many more, K-Pops! is an absolute treat.

Whether you know anything about .Paak or not feels irrelevant. The moment he bursts on screen is really all you need to know about him. He’s doing what he does best: delivering smooth vocals in his incredible, raspy voice while playing the drums as cleanly as ever. He’s clearly having a ton of fun with the role as far as brash performance goes, pulling from an experience that was likely quite personal to him (and to any artist searching for their big break). .Paak plays BJ, a musician who has been playing background drums at a little alleyway bar in Los Angeles for long enough that all the regulars seem to know about, and mildly put up with, his overreaching antics. He believes himself destined to be a star, and he certainly has the all-eyes-on-me demeanor, style, and talent to pull it off. All he needs is that break. Instead, he meets Yeji (Jee Young Han), and the two begin a relationship that we see in the form of an adorably animated montage set to new .Paak music! It’s the first of many creative flourishes .Paak injects into the film, bypassing any opportunity to do the standard and instead take a risk. With this film, .Paak has proven himself a true multi-hyphenate. So even if every chance taken may not necessarily land, it’s exciting to see an artist take risks and work out exactly what their cinematic voice will be in real time.

Through the montage, we catch details of BJ’s musical stagnancy and his break-up with Yeji. The  next time we see BJ, it’s 12 years later, and he’s still in the same bar. The only difference is it’s a bit more run-down, and a lot more empty. He even manages to anger and scare off the last remaining hold-outs that would listen to him. With that, his friend and boss, Cash (the legendary battle-rapper and .Paak’s real-life best friend Jon “Dumbfoundead” Park) and mother (Yvette Nicole Brown) let him go… but they also present the artist with a once-in-a-lifetime shot at stardom. The plan? Stay a background drummer, but do so on one of South Korea’s biggest musical competition shows, (the fictional) “Wildcard.” In doing so, he can showcase his talents to fan-favorite, up-and-coming all-around K-pop contestant Kang (real-life K-pop star Kevin Woo) in the hopes of collaborating on music. After another animated interlude set to more .Paak music, BJ arrives in South Korea. It’s here that the film really takes off, for it was the entire basis of conceiving the film in the first place.

Upon his arrival with some wonderfully fun antics in the mix, BJ makes it to Wildcard and it’s here that he meets Tae Young (.Paak’s son, Soul Rasheed). No surprise based on resemblance alone, and the film mines a ton of great jokes from this conceit, Tae Young is BJ’s son that he never knew about. While the film may gloss over the crash-course lesson on the ins and outs of K-pop, this is very much a story about a father and son reconnecting above all else. It’s a large part of why the film was made in the first place. During the height of the pandemic, .Paak was forced to take a break from non-stop touring and was at home just like everybody else. In that time, he was able to obviously spend a ton more time with Soul. I can vividly recall the countless posts on Instagram of the two of them dancing, making skits, and all around making the most of the time together. It was touching to see, and it’s lovely to know that K-Pops! was birthed from the curiosity and joy of investigating the passions your child might hold. And while the film may move a bit too fast for its own good at times, the purity of how it all came to be (and the heartfelt chemistry the two share on screen) carries it very far beyond a typical fish-out-of-water comedy or a familial reconnecting drama.

Obviously, music plays a massive part in this film, as well as in the lives of its lead performers and characters. When K-Pops! turns its focus on music in relation to a way of learning about oneself and our roots, it also excels. As written earlier, there’s a genuine curiosity baked into the conception of this film. .Paak wanted to learn more about K-pop because his son was obsessed with it. When BJ is breaking down the origins of hip-hop to Tae Young, he calls music “the great communicator.” It wonderfully encapsulates what this film is trying to convey. To look back at the history of music, especially hip-hop, one can see a clear through-line across countless genres and years. It is a genre that has been built off tradition and recontextualization to form something new and exciting. As BJ teaches his son about all that can be learned from such a wide array of music, you feel a genuine strengthening of the bond between the two of them. And again, .Paak and Rasheed elevate the material on-screen by seemingly being themselves. It’s a delight meta-textually, but within the developments of the film itself, it’s a charming treat that pays off. 

From playing one of the all-time great Method Man & Redman songs (“Da Rockwilder” for those curious) to a montage set to the Beatnuts and a scene with Earth, Wind & Fire, K-Pops! is a film that explodes with .Paak’s tastes. There’s even a montage of father and son connecting set to the legendary “Stuntin’ Like My Daddy!” One may start to worry that this film will be fun solely for fans of .Paak and his music. But that assessment feels a bit off-base. There are countless beloved filmmakers who indulge their greatest passions and tastes with the films they make, and they translate incredibly well. Between the clear adoration for all the musical talent brought to life in K-Pops!, and a touching reconnection between father and son (both within the film and reality), it feels like .Paak’s debut film is one that is bound to spark a whole lot of joy, a whole lot of musical curiosity, and a whole lot of laughing and dancing.

K-Pops! celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. For more information on the film, head right here.

Grade: B-

Director: Ron Howard
Writer: Noah Pink
Stars: Sydney Sweeney, Ana de Armas, Vanessa Kirby

Synopsis: Follows a group of people fueled by a profound desire for change; in order to turn their back to society they leave everything behind and set their futures on the harsh landscape of the Galapagos.

The thought of living on an isolated island free from any and all standard responsibilities might sound like a dream to some. But also, an absolute nightmare to others upon actually seeing the location. But such is the cost of absolute freedom. To completely rid oneself of any notion of societal standards in favor of something larger could be an exciting prospect, but, like anything else, it comes at a cost. That cost, and whether or not it’s even possible to pay without losing oneself, is at the forefront of legendary filmmaker Ron Howard’s latest film. Eden, which celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival, feels unlike anything the filmmaker has ever made. This film swerves in many directions throughout its runtime. While it has that humanist hope Howard is known for, so much of it is shrouded with a curtain of real darkness. For it dives headfirst into the core of what makes humans tick, and holding up a mirror to the ways in which humans can devolve into savagery makes for not just a compelling watch, but a damning one.

Based on a true story, Eden follows a handful of individuals who find themselves living on an island in the Galapagos after they become disgusted by where society is leading. After World War I, “economic collapse and the rise of fascism” leads Dr. Friedrich Ritter (Jude Law) and his wife, Dora Strauch (Vanessa Kirby) to Floreana island. Ritter has one lofty goal in mind. With his escape from modern and traditional civilization, he aims to discover and expose the true  purpose of life. It’s an idea that sounds as if it’s been explored countless times; throughout cinema, but also by countless philosophers. Yet Eden excels in separating itself from merely questioning the notion of what makes humans act the way they do. It bounces back and forth between absurdly dark humor, genuinely thrilling sequences full of fright and tension, and most importantly, a profound curiosity on whether or not that purpose can truly be defined. Many would argue it cannot be. I believe this film does.

To be human is to be malleable. It’s a simple fact that must be accepted. When we first meet Ritter and Strauch, they seem a bit jaded. This may simply be due to the nature of their chosen lifestyle. But nevertheless, what’s clear is that they were remaining steadfast in the principles they have defined through Ritter’s manifesto on humanity. Mind you, they are certainly odd in more ways than one. Living on an island with nobody around in any direction can do that to anybody. But that doesn’t mean that introducing neighbors into the mix is the solution to such a problem. In fact, it’s this very development that begins to show what humans do when they feel threatened, challenged, or even just surprised with unexpected company. The Witttmer family; Heinz (Daniel Brühl), Margaret (Sydney Sweeney), and young son, Harry (Jonathan Tittle) show up on the island after being inspired by Ritter’s feats.

They come with good intentions, despite the marital dispute we later discover. Heinz thought it would be good for the family, Margaret simply followed along. If selfish desire brings people to supposed paradise, with no regard to those closest to us, can it really be envisioned as the perfect utopia? Perhaps that is what Eden is trying to say regarding the purpose of life. That we are placed into a set of circumstances by a variety of factors, and in turn, we must do all we can to survive within that situation. Could the purpose of life simply be the pure drive to survive at any and all costs? It’s a rather upsetting truth to confront. Operating in pure survival mode, it seems impossible to ever be content in life. And we see this deeply human inability to be pleased upon the arrival of Baroness Eloise Bosquet de Wagner Wehrhorn (a stand-out Ana de Armas).

It’s upon the arrival of the overbearing Baroness that the true form of Eden begins to really take shape. She is carried onto the beach like royalty, sitting on the shoulders of her two lackeys, who are head-over-heels infatuated with her. They’ll do anything she asks, and it’s not difficult to understand why. De Armas brings a wide-eyed excitement to the performance that masks a worrisome control freak bent on proving she has a name worthy of remembering. You can see how she’d be utterly lost when unable to bend the whims of those around her. But back on the mainland, she never had to worry about such things. It’s only when her power and essential mortal possessions, like food and water, are stripped away from her that we see cracks begin to form. And those cracks very quickly spiral into something far more worrisome. De Armas holds this entire performance together so damn well, producing laughs and angered disgust in equal measure.

So upon the arrival of the Baroness, her men set to work on building the foundation for a new luxury hotel right on the beach. But very quickly, her not-so-neighborly demeanor begins grating against the rest of the inhabitants on Floreana island. What is the purpose of life? Is it to hate thy neighbor? That’s written in jest, of course, but it is comical to see just how quickly Howard and writer Noah Pink’s film can turn neighbors against one another by the simple fact of cohabitation near one another. It’s almost outright proclaiming the age-old idea of one big friendly neighborhood is simply impossible due to the very nature of our most internal selves clashing up against one another. What is the purpose of life? Could it simply be to find peace? That’s a far more comforting idea to hope for. The only problem with that definition lies in another question: what happens when that peace is threatened?

In that threat to peace comes some of the most thrilling sequences of Eden. It’s in these sequences that we see what humans are truly capable of. And it is here, in this human potential, that I believe lies the answer to Ritter’s question regarding the purpose of life. Or at least, what Howard and Pink feel it is. These sequences (which will be written around somewhat vaguely to avoid spoilers); some triumphant and some cold-blooded, show what humans are truly capable of. When pushed to the limit, stripped of all that modern society has to offer; when it is merely humanity and the very essence of the world around us, we reveal our true selves. As humans, we believe we can beat the odds. That we are the exception to the rule. Shocking revelations make way for cathartic truths about the cast of characters we have lived with for some time on this island. It would appear humans are full of abilities both monstrous and animalistic, and it’s not until coming to peace with those mentalities that we can maybe accept how quickly our principles can fall to the wayside.

We see how this purpose to exist in a pure form breeds contempt, jealousy, and greed. As the Baroness representing modern living rears its ugly head to co-opt all the island inhabitants have built, the ugly truth comes to light. The actions of Ritter, Strauch, and at times, the Wittmer family may be damning for the future of humanity. But it’s just a means of survival brought out by the desperate need to fight against an imposed order designed to split society in half: those who have, and those who do not. And those who do have will do all they can to guarantee they remain in such a position. So who are we to blame the others? Perhaps the purpose of life is merely accepting that it’s impossible to do anything aside from look out for oneself and the immediate family we hold dear. Is that a bit of a savage outlook on humanity? Perhaps, but this humanity appears to be all that we have, one way or the other. Maybe the purpose of Eden is all about forcing us to accept that it, and we, are flawed. Yet even still, we fight for it to prove otherwise.

Eden celebrated its world premiere at the 2024 Toronto International Film Festival. For more information on the film, head right here.

Grade: B+