March 1, 2024

2.1.24 I swear I’ll never be able to listen to 50 Cent’s music the same way again. Anatomy of a Fall reflects a remarkable high in intensely dramatic, dialogue-driven cinema. It also, but less seriously, makes a compelling case for adding a new Oscars category honouring animal actors, because the dog here almost steals the show. This is director Justine Triet’s first film worthy of mention, with its storyline coming to fruition during the COVID period. It’s an effort brimming with intelligence regarding observations on marriage, as it probes all the high lows, secrets and compromises within domestic life.  Lead actor here Sandra Huller demonstrates once again her status as a seriously impressive actor following the triumph of Toni Erdmann a few years back. Her upcoming offering in 2024, The Zone of Interest under Jonathan Glazer’s hand, should similarly impress and I am so here for it. Here a German woman who speaks English mainly and tries to speak French pretty damn convincingly creates lots of facades and muddies her statements, creating more confusion around who she is, which is an element I have never before seen in a film like this, to its massive credit. Thanks to Triet, Anatomy of a Fall impeccably probes the enigmas central to this whodunit with extreme precision, intricately layering characters, reactions and hypotheticals against each other, making the film both an exceptional courtroom thriller as well as a marital case study. Aside from Huller and Snoop the dog, the whole cast shines throughout the film, as it feels they are so in tune with the required dramatism needed to make the story so compelling. The script is complex but precise, belying satisfying surprises at every turn. It’s well-balanced in its use of both French and English dialogue to maximise accessibility, which is obviously why it is proving itself so popular as one of the best of the year. Its shocking moments and expert editing must be singled out as particular strengths.  But what makes the film so special is its willingness to leave some questions unresolved regarding the fall, fully intriguing without frustration. Another key pleasure is how it teases both scenarios of what happened through shocking, intensely dramatic moments expertly edited for maximum impact. But the concrete mark of masterwork lies in the uncertainty; the lingering doubts and a missing puzzle piece that stays maddeningly out of reach. For all its hugely impressive elements, this uncertainty forms the pinnacle of the film’s appeal. Ultimately, the opaqueness of Anatomy of a Fall’s mystery cements its emerging reputation as a contemporary dramatic masterpiece. Such bold directorial choices re-introduce Justine Triet as an impressive new cinematic voice who has helmed a five-star tour de force, of mystery and doubts that refuse resolution. Unmissable. My favourite film of 2023.

24.3.23 Alice, Darling deals with the fact that a relationship doesn’t need to be physical or aggressive to be abusive. It doesn’t contain any surprises or say anything groundbreaking about domestic violence in our current society, but its performers give it what for. It’s also neatly edited and therefore effective as an 80-minute movie, which goes a long way these days. I didn’t care much for the side quest plot about the missing girl in the woods, and I felt more interested in plot holes rather than meaning at the end of the film, but it’s engrossing while it’s on and like ‘Women Talking’ does make you reflect on how power and control can corrupt intimacy. Anna Kendrick is pretty good in it, but Wunmi Mosaku is excellent (His House, Loki), so I’d happily single out her performance as the standout feature.

19.3.23 Alcarràs is a film that intelligently looks at human fear, seen through four different perspectives in a Catalan family working on a peach farm. Through the eyes of the bloodline’s elderly patriarch (legacy), his outraged son (injustice), teenage grandson (rebellion) and innocent granddaughter (friendship), varied yet universal subject matters are skillfully explored. It’s not simply a tale of ‘the capitalists versus the people’, which makes the conflict of the film delicate and complex, suiting its subtle style. There is no antagonist of such, so instead the film plays with the idea of ‘progress’ being the enemy, especially when some members of the family become hostile to change and others less so. I feel like the film is at its strongest during the scenes with the young children. Their distaste of ‘the big trucks and scary men with the solar panels’ but at the same time showing them to have kind and tender moments with the black immigrant workers to be really effective. I found it to be a smart commentary of the ever-present immigration debate in Europe which seems to get more ugly and complicated with every passing year. However, I do think the film is at least  20 minutes too long, and there are some characters and scenes which don’t add to the overall feel and message of the film. I also felt that it could have been elevated with an effective score or soundtrack but nothing memorable is present. 

17.8.23 In her directorial debut, it’s hard to gauge whether A.V. Rockwell loves New York City or hates it to the core. Her impressive feature, A Thousand and One, is a poetic urban commentary of a city that is too often romanticised or simplified, and not always truthfully depicted. Rockwell delivers an authentic portrait of life in 1990s Harlem that reflects an affection for black culture and state policy disillusionment in equal measures. Through the eyes of Inez, played with grit and toughness by Teyana Taylor, we witness the complex push and pull of her relationship with the city she calls home. Though she dreams of a fresh start after prison, the draws of drugs, crime, and unreliable partners continue to ensnare her. Much like Barry Jenkins’ Moonlight, the film utilises a three-pronged structure to intimately explore Inez’s journey at three pivotal points in her life, in satellite with her son Terry and love interest Lucky.   At its core, A Thousand and One is a reflection on how our environments shape us, but also how the ones we love are the ones who can hurt us the most. Inez’s complicated relationship with Harlem mirrors the complexities of family – full of frustration and heartache but bonded by deep, unbreakable love. Anchored by Taylor’s moving lead performance, the film I think heralds the arrival of a bold new cinematic voice in Rockwell. Her lyrical ode to the city she knows so intimately resonates with raw truth and glimmers of the soul of America’s black working class.