A TIFF Review Extravaganza
A review of every film I saw at TIFF, all in one convenient spot!
Love Life
Patient and reserved, Love Life attempts to capture the experience of loneliness in all of its forms. Loneliness in marriage, between child and parent, wife and in-laws, and so much more. There are various relationships all highlighting the pains of loss, so many and treated with such reservation that the emotions that should be generated from heartbreaking moments feel wispy rather than concrete. With not enough time to juggle its dynamics that could each make a movie of its own but still attempting to do so with a careful beauty, Love Life proves itself to be neither a success or failure in its goals, rather just an admittedly well shot examination of a difficult theme.
The opening of the film establishes the dynamics between protagonist Taeko, her husband Jiro, Taeko’s child Keita, and Jiro’s parents. Hopefully, you don’t find these characters too compelling, as the opening introduces characters that rarely bring significance to the plot before abruptly exiting the film. The lack of consistency has the effect of dampening the emotional moments that should be resonating, and showcasing characters that never feel real. However, the craftsmanship at play makes it impossible not to at least slightly empathize with these characters and their plights, making for a film that hits only half its narrative and emotional marks.
However, this seems to be one of the film’s intentions. I was able to attend a screening with the director, Koji Fukada, who braced the audience beforehand by encouraging us to think of the film through the lens of our own interpretations. In other words, it seems as though Love Life purposefully exudes a narrative ghastliness, one where nothing ever feels concretely present or too far from reality. While I admire this narrative approach, and believe it does lend itself well to Love Life at times, I can safely say this made the plot and dialogue feel loose. Scenes don’t always precede in a logical manner, specifically in ways I didn’t gleam thematic resonance from. Meaning, Love Life is certainly a competent film with lots to say, but leaves it up to the audience to decide what that “thing” is, for better or worse.
However, I found myself thinking of past relationships, friendships and dynamics of my own during the narrative lulls. The brilliantly lit settings and contrasting warmth of the visuals to the dark subject matter would always bring me back into the fray, but a part of me believes my experience with the film would be one Fukada enjoys. I was less engaged with the movie as I was the themes and messages at play, ones that I had to find both within the film and myself to completely understand. A thought provoking, subtle meditation on loneliness in the modern day, with a story that falters in terms of emotional engagement and effective characters, Love Life is a film that feels distracted, but one that will also certainly distract you.
The Fabelmans
A grandiose family drama retelling the life of one of the greatest filmmakers of all time that is treated with all the nostalgia and sincerity of a holiday trip home, The Fabelmans is perhaps the most “movie” movie ever, and by extension the greatest film to watch the world premiere of at a film festival. With the lights off, sixty feet screen glowing, and Spielberg himself in the crowd, it’s difficult to not let my experience hinder an objective review of the film. However difficult, I’ll try my best to give my thoughts on, again, the most movie movie to ever exist.
A wonderous drama about stand-in’s for Steven Speilberg’s own family, it is easy to think this would come out to be a narcissistic film. However, Spielberg tells a story not of himself, but of his family, and in a filmmaking style so grand that it treats everyday family arguments with the same level of gravitas as a man eating shark or dinosaur come to life. Here, the filmmaking presents real life as a dream, no room looks like one to be lived in, but one to be filmed. Protagonist Sammy sitting in his room, rain pattering down the window in a moment of thought is presented to the audience with beautiful blue lighting and a dynamic camera, bringing this emotional moment to a visual climax for maximum effectiveness. In other words, it is filmmaking at its peak, and while that never makes a setting believable, it makes the world of the film visually match the youthful innocence the narrative captures.
Following Sammy from childhood to the beginning of his filmmaking career, all while dealing with the divorce between his mom, Mitzi (played by Michelle Williams) and his father, Burt (played by Paul Dano). Every actor brings their A-game, providing performances that feel in place with the overly innocent and. at times, cheesy visuals. However, they simultaneously manage to feel human, which can also be accredited to the screenwriters for making a script that nails the tonal head of nostalgic youth. Again, it appears that every element of the film works around this theme, from visuals to writing, never does The Fabelmans feel unconfident in its execution and the story it wants to tell.
And that story is effective. Despite an ending I felt was somewhat abrupt, the narrative is coherent and stylized enough to bring about an emotional and warm experience. The filmmaking is an example of a master at work, and when paired with the excellent story and performances to bring it to life, makes The Fabelmans an impossible to enjoy, overly sincere love letter to filmmaking that may just go down as one of Speilberg’s best.
The Women King
The Woman King provides a grandiose return to the Hollywood historical epic, one successful enough that I exited my screening hoping for more blockbusters like this over the cardboard cutout films Marvel has been recently churning out. While contemporary blockbusters have brought hegemony, The Woman King proudly declares itself as its own with war cries and colorful cinematography to make for an engaging, if not predictable, action adventure epic.
The Woman King follows the all female tribe of Agojie in their fight against Oyo Empire. However, there are many players to this game, including the delightfully inactive John Boyega, who is a king in all of the worst ways, a few side soldiers to bulk up the narrative, a whisper of a romance with British Colonizer Malik, and many more. That’s not to mention the subplots abound, which when all crammed together make for a narrative that, despite a runtime over two hours, still feels overly stuffed and at times half baked. Easy solution? Cut out what isn’t needed. The romance subplot refused to feel anything but forced, as well as other spoiler territory beats that, in one person’s opinion, could have been left out for a more cohesive story.
However, those are nitpicks in a sea of overwhelming positivity. Every actor brings their best, with Viola Davis racking up as many Oscar nods as kills with her performance. There are stand out young actors as well, such as Thuso Mbedu and Masali Baduza. Again, while their performances at times can be drowned out by the sheer amount of characters, the film works as an ensemble with talent like this. Similarly, despite its narrative falters, an ensemble is only as good with the material it has to work with. Sure, not every scene or line of dialogue is needed, and some story threads feel like inputs by those really in charge, but overall the plot is an engaging and satisfying one. And, again, this film works like an ecosystem, with the actors supporting the narrative and its weaknesses, while the script gives time for key characters to provide their best. While at times feeling distracted, the script is never lost, never lazy, and never a bore.
The film remains strong in its visuals, particularly the action, despite the fact there were points where I thought “I wish this wasn’t pg-13.” Some forced cuts or off screen violence sticks out like a sore thumb, but that’s only because the rest of the action is so quality. Dynamic yet clean choreography and camera work makes the scenes of two competing sides of a war feel truly epic in nature and scale. If the narrative ever fails to grab you, the action certainly will, and there’s enough of it to satisfy even the most blood thirsty warrior.
Meaning, The Woman King is a nice refresher for blockbusters. Not having seen Top Gun: Maverick, this is easily my favorite blockbuster of the year. It is easy to tell the passion behind this project, as from production design to combat, this world and its characters feel real, even with a few setbacks.
Manticore
Beneath the innocent veneer of protagonist game developer, Julian, is a deep seeded horror that Manticore finds more fascination in exploring than it ever convinces the audience to. After saving a young boy from an apartment fire, this haunting desire is revealed to Julian, and although never acting on these taboo feelings in real life, it always lurks within the monster Julian views himself as.
While the title is anything but subtle, it is ironically the subtle horrors that keep this film at all engaging. With a patient cinematic style, Manticore utilizes effective cinematography to uncomfortably wedge the audience into the mind of a deeply troubled man, one we want to escape just as much as he does. The exploration of Julian's monstrous desires are, again, subtle, treated as an undertone to satisfy attentive viewers next to the dull plot. After Julian’s apartment fire he meets Diana, and the two quickly begin to date. What follows is a subdued plot that could’ve used a little more excitement or introspection, one that holds its biggest punches for the end. An effective strategy for a solid ending, but not for making a plot that is consistently engaging, and when paired with characters that are little more than stand-ins for their troubles and burdens, the story is less of tale we’d like to follow and more of a test of endurance to see who in the audience can last the longest.
However, it is in those final moments where Manticore’s strengths are revealed, and it becomes difficult to completely write this movie off as grotesque and uncomfortable. For one, the cinematography compliments the narrative to create a scene the audience is fearful of watching, which is a thrill in its own right. Secondly, the subtlety, and lack thereof at key moments, is present in the horrifying one take that precedes the final shot to great effective, providing an “a-ha” moment that almost makes the film worth sitting through. Lastly is the stellar performance by Nacho Sanchez, who manages to capture the mindset of a truly troubled man with authenticity akin to Rami Malek.
Essentially, there are specks of greatness hidden in this underbelly of a film. Unflinching, patient, and deeply uncomfortable, Manticore is a film that relishes in its disturbing ideas. If you are a fan of feeling icky when exiting a film, I imagine there are better, more clever, more entertaining films to attain that awful uncanny effect.
Wendell and Wild
Henry Selick returns in this strikingly original, alluringly animated children’s horror film with some of comedies greatest voicing the two devils you’ll see on the poster. The story follows the demons, Wendell and Wild played by Keegan-Michael Key and Jordan Peele, as they travel from the underworld to the land of the living to convince Kat Elliot, a tortured teenager, to help them build their dream amusement park, all set against the backdrop of a school acting as an allegory for the prison industrial complex.
If that sounds like a lot, you’d be right, and cramming all of these original ideas and nuanced themes into just over 90 minutes is a tight squeeze. At the same time, watching this equally adorable and impressive animated dolls wiggle their way through this complex adventure spouting commentary on the low-income school to prison pipeline is both delightfully jarring. Watching the film, I couldn’t help but feel inspired and reinvigorated by the ambition of this project, to teach children about the horrific complications in real life that are more haunting than an underground demon ever could be.
The concepts and ideas are original and nuanced, but almost to a degree that is detrimental to the film. With so much happening, the film rarely has time to catch up with itself. Introducing character after character, making up story rules as it goes along, Wendell and Wild feels a bit chaotic at times in all the ways you wouldn’t want it to. Instead of asking questions the film prompts, at times I was too busy wondering what was happening in the actual plot to carefully consider the points it raises.
Again, this is only a product of extreme ambition, and for the minds behind this delightfully educational and charmingly scary journey, I cannot thank you enough for that.
V/H/S/99
While admittedly out of my element with this one, I can still give my opinion on V/H/S/99, as I still managed to scrounge up a few words on such an eclectic and chaotic film.
Consisting of five short horror stories, all of which draw inspiration from your favorite 90s staples, V/H/S/99 never failed to at least impress me with its production design and creativity, where at times it certainly did at leaving me scared, laughing or both.
To sum up my experience, the first film was overly long, the second was squirm inducing, the third was genuinely terrifying and outlandish, the fourth was the most hilarious, and the fifth had production value that shocked and awed before terrifying every audience member. Meaning, the complete package makes for a quality horror midnight madness experience, but I simply cannot imagine watching it outside of that context. Too zany for a casual viewing, too grotesque for anytime but the Fall, V/H/S/99 falls victim to its concept when realizing it is not as re-watchable or memorable as I had hoped. However, that initial viewing will be spectacular, as long as you’re seeing it with some friends in a dark room.
The Inspection
Hardly anything that happens to Ellis French, captured authentically by Jeremy Strong, is fair. Misogynistic language, homophobic slurs, uniquely brutal exercises, squad-mates cheating to put him at a disadvantage, The Inspection is the heartwarming, humanity confirming story of the biggest uphill battle one could face.
The film follows Ellis French, the writer and director of the film, on his journey to join the army as a gay black man. As previously mentioned, this is no easy feat, and watching a French beaten by the world rise through the ranks is a truly powerful story tainted by sloppy execution and a military confirming ending. Despite the inherently empathy inducing story, The Inspection failed to garner the emotions necessary for every beat to land. I watched French as he struggled, but didn’t feel the hurt that motivated his actions, the passion that drove him, or anything in-between to truly draw me into the story.
That isn’t at fault of Jeremy Strong, who is easily the most captivating and impressive part of the film outside of the fact that it’s a true story. At only 96 minutes but all of them framing Strong front and center, it is an impressive feat to pull off a role so convincingly and with such charm, especially when the one who went through the experience is behind the camera. The desire to display authenticity was ripe within Strong, but I’m not sure the film itself shared the same sentiment. I find it difficult to believe that French’s story played out in the by the books structure of a generic Hollywood military film, but that is exactly what is given to us. Perhaps it is the generic script that kept me from connecting with the film, and the most A24 branded visuals one could imagine certainly didn’t help differentiate the film from its contemporaries.
Meaning, The Inspection is a solid watch for Strong’s performance alone, but outside of that sole emotional element, the film gives little to remember.
Moving On
Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin are the comedic impetus for Paul Weitz’s latest Moving On, and boy, are these two solid choices to lead any comedy adventure, especially one with a premise aa ridiculous as this.
The shenanigans don’t take long to ensue. With a brisk 86 minute runtime, Moving On has approximately zero seconds to waste on exposition, context, or even effectively establishing character dynamics. Instead, it’s right to the humor, which isn’t a wholly negative decision. The jokes here are effective, which is expected from two comedy legends transitioning to the big screen, but I can’t say I was expecting to laugh within the first two minutes when Claire, played by Fonda, tells a boorish widow of an old friend that she is going to kill him. Sure, it’s played for laughs, but this old lady ain’t messing around, and from there the audience is treated to a heartwarming, hilarious adventure of friendship that doesn’t always land its emotional hits.
That isn’t to say this film doesn’t try. From Claire reuniting with estranged friend Evvie, played by the fantastically sarcastic Lily Tomlin, to reconnecting with her ex-husband and much more, Moving On* takes big swings with its tiny runtime, and as a result, ends up ringing hallow. There simply isn’t enough Evvie and Claire to make their relationship believable, same with Claire and her ex-husband and the overall undercooked themes. The typical “crisis” moment is as lengthy as some jokes in the film, which is telling of the lack of a distinct emotional core that would turn this dark satire to a classic. The jokes are there, the passion is persistent, but the heart simply isn’t.
In terms of visuals, score, etc. there isn’t anything that sticks out, for better or worse. What we’re all here to see is Fonda and Tomlin having a swing at the silver screen, and if that’s all that you’re looking for then this film is perfect. However, if you bite on the film’s emotional bait, you’ll leave feeling a bit empty from the lack of nuance the movie seemingly promises. Stellar performances can’t make something out of the nothing that is present, and again, at only 86 minutes, Moving On could have benefitted from extending its runtime. Meaning, my largest complaint with this film is that there isn’t enough of it, which should be enough to inform you on how entertaining Moving On is despite its lackluster thematic development and emotional pay off.
The Greatest Beer Run Ever
Entering the theater, I was confused. Having watched The Greatest Beer Run Ever at TIFF, I had no idea what the movie was about, only that it had forever frat guy Zac Efron and the word “beer” in the title, so I was in for a good time. Or so I thought.
The film is full of surprises, the first being that it leans closer to the “drama-dy” department instead of an all out belly bursting laugh-fest like Efron’s previous endeavors. Meaning, the film never prioritizes jokes despite some of them landing, but at the same time remains light hearted in its exploration of the Vietnam war (again, something I never thought I would be typing in a review for a Zac Efron beer movie). Except, that’s another surprise, as there are more than a few scenes where shots are fired, explosions devastate cities, and civilians plead for a way out of what was just a fun romp in the jungle. Thus, an imbalance is struck, no line is properly drawn as to what this film wants to be. At some points it seems as though you could be sharing a brewski with Chickie Donohue himself, the protagonist who goes on a suicide mission/patriotic roll call to Vietnam in order to deliver beer to his friends who are serving. At other points, it becomes clear that this is simply a comical set up that is met by cruel reality when Chickie finds it impossible to find his friends and even leave the war zone. Aided by, surprise! Russell Crowe and a few pals, Donohue makes it home a changed man, now aware of the atrocities of war and the lies being fed to the American people. While giving the impression of the oblivious friend you bring to tailgates praying they stick to sports instead of politics, Chickie ends the film a little more aware of the world around him. Another surprise, this apparently takes over two hours to execute, a runtime far too long for a plot so simple.
Clad in biker jeans and a short sleeve plaid shirt, Chickie comically makes his way from military base to compound, all the while witnessing the horrors of war. If this sentence sounds like an oxymoron, then just wait until you’re in theaters unaware of wether you should be laughing, crying, or just enjoying the Efron show. Speaking of, the leading man brings a much needed spark to the script, one whose jokes land more-so for the people saying them instead of their quality. Efron also dials up the acting when the dreary moments abruptly arrive, providing the film with a puddles worth of depth in an overall easy watch.
And, ultimately, I believe that’s all this film is trying to be. By reiterating a point so many of the audience members are well aware of with a by the numbers plot, a kicking 70s soundtrack every dad will love, and war film cliche after cliche, The Greatest Beer Run Ever is a heartwarming comedy masquerading as something more. It is not a convincing disguise.
My Policeman
The fog clears on a seaside town to reveal the truth seemingly everyone knew but was too afraid to pry. This is a vaguer, more interesting description of what transpires in My Policeman. While the trailers and synopses promised excitement, drama, and a love triangle so tight with tension the audience can’t help but wait for it to burst, what was given disappoints not for being outright terrible, but nothing of what it should have been.
The film follows two timelines with the same cast of characters; a trio of “friends,” Tom, Marion, and Patrick while they try to learn who really loves who. While this is a seemingly unfair complaint, I believe the fact that this is all I have to say about the movie is reflective of its bland plot. Outside of each other, these characters simply do not exist. Paper thin visualizations of characters who were certainly stronger on paper, the screenplay’s issues become glaring not even fifteen minutes into the film. Opening on the older versions of our characters and flashing back to the 50s, an imbalance is struck between the two stories that never give proper time for these already flat characters to develop a sense of individuality. Somehow, Marion manages to be friends with two lovers who do everything but giving her the boot to hide their love. Somehow, Patrick is in love with Tom despite their lack of chemistry. And, somehow, Marion marries Patrick and lives nearly the remainder of her life with him. These are key choices that are not explained when understanding the characters, because there are no characters to learn more of, just attractive place holders to nab tickets and put butts in seats.
The plot suffers similar issues. Playing out exactly how one would expect, the twists and emotional beats almost never land due to the aforementioned banality of the screenplay. Clever editing made my heartstrings tug every now and then, but believe me, that is not a credit given to the writers or actors, as those two roles comprise an ecosystem of boring, one supporting the other in their evolutionary goal to make a mediocre popcorn flick.
Perfectly predictable with its surface level take on any element of filmmaking, My Policeman is a romantic drama that failed to create a convincing romance and provoke engaging drama. I was simply along for the ride, as I imagine many other fans will be as well.
Glass Onion: A Knives Out Story
When Rian Johnson’s Knives Out hit theaters and caused an uproar amongst film goers and a series of grateful prayers from the fans of the long dead “whodunit” genre, I was ecstatic. The rich autismal atmosphere beautifully captured by D.P. Steve Yedlin created a mysteriously entrancing backdrop for one of the smartest scripts of the year, a backdrop that did more for the film than the leads do for others. Knives Out again shined in this department, with the ensemble cast all giving their A-game to bring the aforementioned bible of a script to life. Essentially, it was a film with few faults, from pacing to narrative, from character to cinematography, there was no doubt that Knives Out was a landmark title in the absurdly spectacular year for film that was 2019. And then a sequel was announced. In other words, and then I got scared.
Despite the overwhelming success of the first film and talented cast and crew either making a return or debut in the now franchise, movie sequels are never a guaranteed success. “What if they rush the script?” “What if they botch the characters?” “What if the killer gets away with it?” All of these were especially great concerns for Glass Onion, the successor to a film that prided itself on its sublime writing, erratic and memorable characters, and unpredictable mystery that not even the audience sleuths could predict. Stepping into the theater at TIFF I braced myself, but by the first ten minutes rolled, I let out a deep sigh of relief. From the moment it began up until the final minutes, it is clear Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery was treated with the same care, passion, and respect as the original, resulting in a mystery just as thrilling, more comical, and deeply satirical in comparison to the first.
We follow a new set of characters here, all of whom represent the elites of modern day America. A gun loving twitch streamer, a philanthropist, a politician, and a washed model all occupy the same level of power in the contemporary United States, certainly for the worse. The crew, all expertly played up to the extreme by an incredibly talented cast, travel to a mutual friend’s island, and who else is invited but the iconic Detective Benoit Blanc. The first of many twists come when we learn the owner of said island, the pseudo-intellectual Miles Bron, claims to have never invited Blanc in the first place. What follows is a solid amount of set up that teeters on the edge of staying past its welcome, until the final hour pays off every excruciating detail previously established. While the first was impressive in its layered storytelling and creative clues, Glass Onion surpasses the bar in spades, giving one of the most satisfyingly confusing and dumbfounding theater experiences I’ve had in a long time. The second half of the movie is a series of light bulbs flickering, tensions rising, and laughs cackling from every audience member. Between gasps for air I could only ask myself “how on earth?” as I watched a master writer and director tie together a mystery with precision, creativity, and level of individuality I didn’t know was possible. When leaving the theater I was not only stunned at what had unfolded before me, but confident in any project that comes from the Knives Out series. If they keep the core crew, churn out original ideas, and work within the boundaries they’ve created for themselves, then I can safely say I would watch these films for the rest of my life. It seems as though on the second go they’ve mastered a foolproof formula: expertly guide the audience in one direction with jokes and red herrings, offer a possible answer to the mystery, and blow that solution out of the water only to flip the entire narrative on its head with a semi-protagonist taking on the case next to Blanc. It’s a now solidified recipe for success, but simply following a formula is not enough to make it big, there must be some level of differentiation between entries. I’m happy to say that Glass Onion mostly succeeds on this front as well, but in some ways I can’t help but prefer the original.
The most notable differences are that the original cast is not returning, except for the detective of course, and that we are now far and away from the deliciously dreary fall escape that was the manor in Knives Out. While the setting is far less interesting, and a bit more outlandish at that, the cinematography and story never let up. The island is used both by the narrative and visuals to craft a web of lies, possible truths, and all around mysteries that make the setting feel familiar and lived in by the end of the film. While I found the unrealistic nature of the island a bit jarring at first glance, it became clear that Glass Onion is not looking to be realistic, but satirical, and that is another level of differentiation from the original I appreciate. The jokes, performances, production design, and everything in-between work to make the elite main characters look like buffoons, and the clever script works just as hard to bring these idiots front and center to the audiences criticism. The humor is smart and the satire ties directly into the narrative, making for a critique on the top one percent that I enjoyed for more than Triangle of Sadness, another critically acclaimed film that dogs on rich people. However, this main cast is possibly so easy to make fun of because of their shallowness. While the first movie had a cast of motivated, detailed characters, Glass Onion leans towards caricature category, and while never diving head first into the land of fantasy meets reality, the supporting roles feel less defined than those in the previous film. While this ultimately works for the films themes and narratives, I can’t say it wasn’t disappointing to have a cast with members I’ve already forgotten about, whereas I can’t get the original characters out of my head.
However, any complaints are ultimately null and void in the grand scheme of this expertly crafted mystery. More thrilling, more entertaining, more comical and thematically whole, Glass Onion proves that Rian Johnson has not, and seemingly will not, run out of innovative and creative ideas in a tired genre.
Triangle of Sadness
If there is anything to say about Palme d’Or winner Triangle of Sadness, it’s that you will laugh, and you will like it. While initially sounding positive, the chuckles will come either by the sheer quantity of jokes, or the forced ways in which the film hits the audience over the head with all the subtly of a hand grenade, guaranteeing at least one squeamish “haha” from even the most self important film critic. In that sense, the film is a success. Abrasive in nature, it is difficult to say that one will leave the theater anything but disgusted, shocked and cackling, but in other ways, Triangle of Sadness fails to be an entertaining, even watchable movie for the entirety of its far too long runtime.
The film “follows” models Yaya and Carl in the midst of their not so luxurious lives as models being invited to a cruise that later crashes on a deserted island. I say “follows” loosely, as the plot is treated with less structure and narrative drive than a nature documentary. Rather than focusing on and satirizing the lifestyles of two, admittedly quite interesting and humorous, characters, Triangle of Sadness prioritizes its own brand of humor to poke fun at the one percent. Well, “poke fun” is a bit soft spoken, the film more-so relentlessly wails on the buffoons at the top of the ladder with both smart, dry humor and some of the most grotesque sequences put to film. It is here where the balancing act sways to one side, and the cracks start to leak ocean water into this stylish ship.
While starting off on a promising note with our two main characters fighting through exchanges of deliciously entertaining and humorous dialogue, proving there is genuine thought behind the words of this script, the film quickly expands its horizons to nearly the entire crew and passengers of the luxury ship. Choosing to focus on the rich as a concept instead of through the lens of two excellent characters is a decision I can’t entirely agree with, especially when the next forty five minutes are one long sequence of the same gross out joke being told tiredly over and over and over…as if the Bermuda triangle added “time loops” to its list of supernatural phenomena. Meaning, while there are gems hidden within the first half of this movie, if you are not a fan of the humor, a brand that comes out of left field after the aforementioned grounded and promising opening minutes, then you will probably be enjoying yourself as much as the tortured passengers. Not only does this jarring sequence lose its luster after a couple minutes, but it halts the narrative to the point where there is none. After rich people torture porn, a select few are left stranded on a deserted island, and with no clear goal except to survive, the film devolves into random joke after random joke, grasping at any reasoning behind these characters actions, or reason for the film to continue at all. Strangely, the ending is about as predictable as one could expect from a satire at this level, but the ending, despite other scenes in the film being handed far too much time, is abruptly cut at a curious moment. Ambiguity turns to confusion in the final moments of the film, a confusion that I realized was present from the moment we stopped following Yaya and Carl.
Despite the narrative flaws, strange pacing, and hard to stomach sense of humor, Triangle of Sadness is certainly deserving of some its praise. When the script wants to be smart, it’s smart. When the film wants to be beautiful and visually sound, it passes with flying colors. So the question then becomes, “why?” Why does a film with so much potential tarnish itself with overextended jokes that a ten year old could come up with? In other words, the film seems to get in its own way. There exists a better version of this movie, a more focused satire on the elite with two main characters as the lenses in which we explore, make fun of, and laugh at a lifestyle we love to hate. Meaning, despite its beauty and glimpses of something more, I simply cannot see why Triangle of Sadness has been such a festival hit. I advise watching with caution, because it is undeniable that at some point this film will have you both laughing and refusing to watch, or somehow even both at once.
Causeway
With a desaturated Jennifer Lawerence hauntingly staring out of a bus window for the film's poster and an equally dreary plot synopsis, I was afraid of the generic Oscar bait film this easily could have been. However, I was simultaneously excited to finally witness Jennifer Lawerence back on the big screen, and better yet, playing a convincing human character. From emotionless revolutionary to allegorical religious figure, it has been quite some time since Lawerence has displayed her down to earth charm that made her so popular in the past. After viewing, I’m happy to say Lawrence and Co-star Brian Tyree Henry, who has a personal Mida’s touch for any project he’s attached to, provide performances that easily make the movie worth watching. I wasn’t aware of Henry playing such a large role in the film, and in another pleasant surprise, the actors are given quality dialogue to work with. This film is shockingly funny, especially for its melancholic subject matter and depressing themes of recovery, loss, and the inevitable change that comes after a tragic event. Meaning, in some ways Causeway is able to break free of its generic narrative expectations, but in others, the film is as by the books as one would expect. The cinematography is inconsistent in quality and tonally flat, sometimes visualizing the two leads' permanent feeling of loss, and at others seemingly just pointing the camera and pressing record. The plot itself does little to make itself unique, leaving the audience predicting every beat that comes their way, albeit enjoying the ride to a conclusion we saw coming a mile away. Meaning, with a short runtime, Causeway is an enjoyable, heartfelt, watch that makes for a satisfying return for Lawrence, if not somewhat bland and forgettable after a few days.
The Wonder
Behind the delicious sickly lit, mukry green walls of the main characters’ shabby homestead is a movie set. While other films try to immerse the audience in the narrative, The Wonder takes a calculated risk in exposing the falsity of stories in its opening shot. Fading in on a soundstage with makeshift homes and wooden panels, on initial viewing one might mistake the beginning of the film for another production company logo, that is, until Florence Pugh as herself narrates over the empty set. She tells the audience that we are “nothing without stories,” a thematic statement that is made immediately resonant by the bold fourth wall break. In other words, The Wonder begins by introducing its main theme with creativity and poise, thereby setting a standard of quality the rest of the film meets in spades.
The Wonder follows doctor Lib Wright, excellently played by Florence Pugh, when she is called upon to watch Anna, an eleven year old girl who has somehow gone without eating for four months. Being a woman of science, through the fog and pouring rain, Wright immediately smells suspicion when realizing the town consists of religious zealots who view Anna as miraculous proof of god. What follows is a deconstruction of two belief systems, a set of opposing stories that through carefully plotted narrative structure and well written arguments become the thematic through-line for a well developed story. This story about stories is then captured in stunning, atmospheric wonder by director of photography Ari Wegner. Every space is intricately captured in a patient beauty that displays the lush landscapes with as much detail and elegance as one of the most stunning close ups I’ve ever seen near the end of the film. In fact, the film is a constant visual oxymoron of gracefulness and disgust, making for a world that appears intriguing in its decay. These visuals then support the main thematic argument, just as every other aspect does, to make for a movie that simply feels complete. The Wonder is then a film that knows exactly what it wants to be, what it wants to say, and how to execute those ideas in creative ways that paradoxically immersed me despite the constant reminders that stories can be dangerous, false, and manipulative. This cohesiveness is what makes The Wonder satisfying, but it is the ways in which it goes beyond what is expected that makes it a truly great watch.
Sanctuary
Sanctuary was a pleasant surprise in every sense of the word. After missing the rush line for critically acclaimed The Whale, my group rapidly changed gears and decided upon this film instead. Having no knowledge of what the film was about outside of the lead actor, in some ways this ended up being the ideal outcome, as we replaced a guaranteed watch outside of festival season with a film I very may well never see again. While it is no Oscar winner, Sanctuary proves itself to be an entertaining watch through and through. Despite the meandering mid section with repetitive dialogue and chatter replacing genuine thematic development, the film succeeds in capturing the audience's attention through one of a kind visuals in color and camera movement, simultaneously witty and sharply cunning dialogue, stellar performances, and a shockingly great score. The laughs are frequent and the tension is palpable, and while only being 96 minutes, it sometimes overstays its welcome. However, the film certainly finds its footing by capping off an insane chess game of psychosexual domination with a declaration of love fit for a romcom. In other words, Sanctuary is unapologetically all it’s own, a gambit of colorful and shocking manipulation, making it a definite pleasure to watch for thrills and laughs alike.
The Son
The Son is as relevant as the title is original. Released about 15 years too late, this shallow depiction of mental illness is packed with every cliche one could imagine, The Son completely fails at sending the audience home with any meaningful message. With the movie able to be boiled down to “parents learn what depression is,” there is little here besides flat visuals and scenes whose sole intention is to make the audience cry.
The simplicity in thematic exploration and development is reflective of the film as a whole. The cinematography is shallow and static, the characters are caricatures, the dialogue is basic and cringe-inducing with its efforts to sound “deep”, and even the performance from the child star is simply unconvincing (not that he had much to work with). The first hour is a repeat of the same conversation between father and son, with the child saying “I’m sad” and the dad screaming “why?!” Instead of forwarding the plot, these repetitious fights filled with shouting and tears works to hide the fact that there is nothing deeper here. Even more confusing, there are off screen conversations referenced by characters that would’ve added much needed variety in conflict, resulting in a more emotionally charged film, that aren’t present for no other reason than to make room for the tears. This leaves the plot predictable and boring to watch despite the emotions it will inevitably bring out.
However, what is perhaps the most disappointing aspect of this movie is that it’s attached to The Father, a film that used the medium in creative ways to show the viewer what it is like to live with a severe mental illness. The difference in quality, ingenuity and originality between the two is astounding for all of the wrong reasons. I would recommend skipping this tone deaf “exploration” of depression and rewatching The Father, or anything else for that matter.
Viking
Through the barren wastelands of a red tinted desert, captured in haunting beauty with minimalistic camerawork and tableau-esque framing, we find John, or rather David, hunkered down with four other “astronauts,” rehearsing their parts of the real heroes on Mars at that very moment, working to predict every unpredictable aspect of human error that could occur on the red planet. The premise promises an interesting story, but what I did not expect was both the laughter and tears experienced along the way.
Viking succeeds in nearly every aspect besides pacing, giving the audience an introspective look into humanity, dreams, and the universal desire for something more everyone will inevitably experience, no matter what planet they’re on. The film is then a balancing act between the ambitious themes and outrageous plot, carefully walking a line of emotion and comedy that succeeds through deadpan and visual humor. While a slow burn that wanes near the middle, every conversation promises an abundance of jokes or thought provoking lines, leaving me laughing and crying in the same scene. Similar to a balance in tone and themes the film’s script succeeds in executing, the cinematography somehow manages to heighten both sides of the film as well. One moment the static camera keeps the audience from seeing the chaos of astronauts tackling each other after one takes an extra sugar cube for their coffee, and the next captures David in a wide shot so vast we can see how small he is in frame and feel how lost he is in life.
Thematically resonant and deeply profound, Viking only becomes better with time. Reflecting on the film brings back every emotion I felt during my viewing, and I cannot wait until I have a second chance to visit the red planet, or human’s recreation of it, with a man learning to love his life on earth as much as his dreams of Mars.
The Good Nurse
For being a serial killer thriller, it’s shockingly slow and we know who did it by the half way mark. Pair this with a protagonist that is missing a strong weakness to act as a base for interesting character development, and you have a film that is certainly more plot than character heavy, which doesn’t help when the plot is pretty linear and predictable.
However, the performances and cinematography were really solid. The framing is claustrophobic, adding tension when the story fails to do so. It’s all muted and gray to reflect the protagonists decaying world, but I think it could’ve been even more dreary. I think this sentiment is reflective of the film as a whole, I don’t think it’s bad by any means, it just could’ve been so much more.
Key character elements and plot lines feel pushed to the side to focus on what we’re all here to see, but again, when the main plot is as predictable as it is it makes me wish I was seeing more of the other elements this story didn’t have time to tell. Somehow, the narrative is overly long, underdeveloped, and predictable, but with some admittedly great moments of tension here and there. It’s simple, but could’ve been more.