 Caleb Landry Jones in Nitram (2022) The 1996 Port Arthur massacre in Tasmania is one of the worst atrocities that occurred in Australia. The lives of several people were tragically stolen. Media coverage of shootings tend to focus heavily not on the victims but the shooter’s identity. Movies about this subject tend to reenact events of the shooting from a day-of perspective. But expectations are challenged in director Justin Kurzel’s film Nitram, which is based on the Port Arthur massacre. Kurzel and screenwriter Shaun Grant approach the subject matter with delicacy. The real shooter’s name is not specifically referenced. Shootings are filmed from afar, never sensationalizing nor showing the aftermath. The film opens with a list of support lines for anyone in distress. While any depiction of a day such as the Port Arthur massacre will understandably be met with scrutiny, the filmmakers behind Nitram bring authenticity and sensitivity in an attempt to understand the unfathomable. As the film follows in the footsteps of the shooter “Nitram” (played by Caleb Landry Jones), the story questions what leads someone to commit such evil acts, and how the inaction by others can build to devastation. Nitram is a disturbing, uncomfortable character study of a family shattering to pieces like a crash in slow-motion.
Nitram has a slow-building sense of dread, the early makings of a cloud about to cloak a quiet suburban town in mid-90s Australia. “Nitram" lives with his parents, struggles to fit in, and is often found playing with fireworks. Despite suffering serious burns as a child, he never learned his lesson about getting too close to the flames. The film opens with archival footage of “Nitram” as a child, recounting the experience. This scene is one of many examples of Kurzel using warning signs in the storytelling to indicate something is amiss. The signs are alarming, but the way they are revealed speaks to the inaction of those around “Nitram”. For instance, during a scene when he assaults his father (played by Anthony LaPaglia) for not getting off the sofa, his mother (played by Judy Davis) watches silently from afar. The weight carried by “Nitram’s” family is felt deeply. His mother in particular has an emotional detachment, knowing who her son is and not having the resources to help beyond keeping a watchful eye on him. Because of what she knows, she sees no future for “Nitram” that is different from the cocoon she has seemed to keep him under. Where her character seems more resigned to her son’s behaviour, “Nitram’s” father expresses the frustration of being accustomed to not understanding him. Even though centered on “Nitram,” who is looking for a way out, the film is every bit about parenting and mental illness as it is about the heinous acts he commits. There is a candor about Kurzel’s direction that teeters on the verge of documentarian. Instead of reenacting the events of the massacre, the story takes a completely different approach that grounds it into humanity. Not by means of justification for “Nitram’s” crimes, but to inject the very unsettling reminder that for some people in the world, this is a reality. Whether it be the shooter’s family, the victims and their families, the bystanders, those who saw troubling signs and chose to look the other way. The film intently questions what leads someone to commit atrocities, and explores a nightmarish culmination of anger that immerses the story in overwhelming dread. As a viewer, it feels like being dropped in the middle of this unassuming community in Tasmania and experiencing first-hand the genesis of evil. As a testament to authenticity, the casting of Nitram is in large part what gives the film its immersive quality. Caleb Landry Jones is exceptional as “Nitram”; his performance feels so settled into the character’s mindset, not a single trace can be found of watching an actor “act”. This is nuanced, unflinching work; no doubt a haunting portrayal that will be impossible to shake. While certainly clear that Jones is the acting standout, the talented supporting cast help keep the film rooted in realism, as opposed to sensationalism. Playing “Nitram’s” parents, Anthony LaPaglia and Judy Davis carry different weights of knowing their son fully. What they know simply cannot be accessed by anyone else, no matter how willing they seem to understand. When “Nitram” randomly knocks onto a neighbor’s door offering to mow her lawn, she extends pity when the lawnmower fails to start and offers that he walk her many dogs instead. The viewer eventually gets to know this neighbor as Helen (played by Essie Davis), an aloof heiress who listens to old-time instrumental music and dreams of going to Hollywood. She takes “Nitram” under her wing: buys him a car out of the blue, lets him live in her mansion, sees a potential in him. It is never made clear whether she views him in the figure of a son or a partner, but either case is a cause of concern for “Nitram’s” mother. When the two women are introduced at “Nitram’s” birthday lunch, the tension is palpable. The scene is a turning point in the film; an astonishing monologue by Davis gives insight into her character’s experience as a parent. She tells a story of “Nitram” as a boy, hiding in a fabric store and ultimately sneaking away from her. After frantic attempts to find him, she gives up and walks to her car, only to find him hiding there laughing at her pain, like it was the funniest thing in the world. All hell is unleashed after the ‘fabric store’ monologue in Nitram. Not only does it give warning to Helen and remind the viewer how unpredictable “Nitram’s” behavior is, but it also speaks to Judy Davis’s talent. With just one scene, she speaks volumes about her character's distress as a parent. The monologue alludes to what must have been years and years of her trying to find ways of coping, ultimately resigning to the idea that her son cannot be changed. Davis brings remarkable detail and understanding to the character. As an actor, she holds her cards close to her chest, which makes her screen presence even more intriguing to watch. She and LaPaglia (also delivering some career-best work here) make the family feel like a real family. Their portrayals accomplish what Kurzel’s direction and Grant’s screenplay tap into: challenging the role parenting plays in the story. As well, the film sheds light on the stigmas around mental illness and how lack of treatment can manifest into dangerous paths. In Kurzel’s depiction of what leads up to the massacre, he sits with the root of evil and questions the enablers who let it rise. He doesn’t attempt to justify nor determine what exactly causes “Nitram” to commit violence. Instead, he sits with the family dynamics and observes. The humanity makes the film so unsettling; that a human being could be capable of such monstrous acts. After the Port Arthur massacre, thousands of guns were bought back and destroyed by the government. The shootings changed gun laws in Australia forever, initially taking less than two weeks for reform. The swiftness calls into memory a scene from the film that happens just as swiftly, on a far more destructive level. “Nitram” is able to walk into a gun shop, without a license or any sort of background check, and purchase rifles. Kurzel avoids using this scene as a cause-and-effect moment. Instead it is yet another delicate observation made about the way numerous factors, whether social or personal, build over time. The character of “Nitram” is depicted with the same delicacy. Kurzel observes from afar a person who is ultimately unknowable, not just to his surroundings but to himself. There is understandable trepidation going into a film based on a tragedy that is still raw for many people. While Nitram is an uncomfortable watch, the cast and crew bring a level of sensitivity to the story that keeps it grounded.
0 Comments
By @nadreviews  Natasha Lyonne in Russian Doll: Season 2 (2022) For a show so deliberately repetitive in its genesis, and now back for more, Russian Doll never suffers the ramifications of being tiresome. Quite the opposite is achieved. The brain child of Natasha Lyonne (who stars, writes, directs, produces, and is one of three creators) is just as invigorating in its second season. Following the success of the first, which sees main character Nadia (Lyonne) as defiant and self-destructive, season two of Russian Doll delves deeper into the personal history she carries around. Set 4 years after being forced to relive her 36th birthday party, Nadia is now on the cusp of 40, when questions of family history and bruised paternal relationships emerge in a pause for self-evaluation. Having escaped one strange time loop, Nadia has fallen into another entirely, now through an unexpected portal in one of Manhattan’s most recognized places. The idea of playing around with time loops, throwing in different destinations that Nadia is able to experience, keeps Russian Doll on track as an ever-expanding journey. As a follow-up to a critically revered first season, Lyonne brings back that intoxicating cocktail of spirit and pathos for a new adventure spanning eras and generations. Season two of Russian Doll introduces a far more introspective train of thought, with enough staying power to keep you mentally onboard for the entire ride. Hold onto your Metrocards!
Instead of relying on its mind-bending time travel concept to do the narrative heavy lifting, the show’s trio of creators (Lyonne along with Amy Poehler and Leslye Headland) have clearly explored how they can use the sci-fi elements to build on storytelling. They don’t have the ‘lighting in a bottle’ effect of the first season, which they wisely treat as a one-time occurrence and steer clear of chasing it for recreation. With a commitment to finding new ways of expanding the material, season two of Russian Doll is a lot more ambitious and existentially weighty this time around. The 7 episodes play like an accordion, expansive and collapsible in how plot unfolds. Lyonne reprises her role as Nadia Vulvokov, a spirited New Yorker who finds herself stuck in a time loop in season one when forced to relive her 36th birthday over and over again. It’s a loop even mortality cannot break; after dying multiple times in a day, she bounces back to her repetitive stare in front of a bathroom mirror, wondering what the hell is going on. As fate would have it, Nadia eventually meets Alan (a role reprised by Charlie Barnett), another character stuck in a death loop. The two connect and, in attempting to piece their experiences together, they realize that the loop started because both characters were in a self-destructive mode. So, in the end they vow to help each other find a way out of this wild purgatory. Are they successful? Season two is set 4 years later, with both characters having resigned themselves to repeating the same day, every day. Season two goes deeper into the personal family history that Nadia and Alan are respectively carrying around like a weight. The new portal into another time loop gives them the opportunity to patch what Nadia calls unfinished business. But like any sort of retrospective into one’s past, one can only hope that the recipient of the history lesson will come out the other side learning more about themselves. What philosophical questions season one sets up through sharp writing and a soulful lead performance, season two uses as building blocks to push its protagonist further into the unknown. The story feels a lot more transcendent and ambitious in where it ends up. Sometimes it feels like a different show in comparison to the first season. But some things never change, one of which being the level of compassion for the characters and themes. From the efforts of the creators, to Lyonne herself playing the lead, Russian Doll continues to bring humanity and empathy for those who are struggling with mental health. While also, shining a light on the importance of thoughtful care. The show’s use of time portals is a great way of emphasizing the intergenerational differences in how mental health was treated through time. Although the show doesn’t quite devote enough time (heh) to fleshing out such characters from the past, including Nadia’s mother (played by Chloë Sevigny). With a grander scope as the playing field, certain plot points and characters fall by the wayside. It seems as though Adam is forgotten along the way; the show quickly switches to his perspective every now and then as a reminder that he’s still part the story. His connection to Nadia holds far more intrigue in the first season and, while he gets his own new time loop subplot, there feels to be a disconnect between the two characters that contradicts whether they’re meant to intersect or not. And as a massive Schitt’s Creek fan, advertising Annie Murphy proves to be the ultimate tease given she doesn’t get a lot of screen time. But of course, she shines on anyway. Then there is the MVP of Russian Doll, the one and only Natasha Lyonne. Nadia has a compelling character arc throughout the 7 new episodes, and it gives Lyonne plenty of moments to shine. She continues to bring this spirited character to life with quick wit, an endless source of energy, and an emotional gut punch when the time calls for one. Above all, as her character goes on this intergenerational journey of finding certain remnants from the past, she becomes a reminder of what is important to value. Existential questions about one’s value, and what one values in life, swirl in this twisty world Natasha Lyonne, Amy Poehler, and Leslye Headland have created. The strength that Russian Doll plays to this season is taking a concept designed to be repetitive and, rather than catch lightning in a bottle twice, takes the ambitious path of trying to make sense of it all. Season two expands on the surrealist possibilities that its predecessor introduces, and finds a new story to tell in all the empty space. As vocalized towards the end of the season, there is so much empty space around us, we’ve forgotten it’s there. It’s a wonder the whole thing doesn’t cave in. The creators of Russian Doll are mindful of that space, particularly when it comes to family matters. For many, there is so much unresolved trauma, unfinished business floating in the space created by what’s left unsaid between people. This takes a lifetime to unpack, and whichever steps are taken to get even close to understanding, the direction looks a lot more like a zigzag than a linear one. With each new movement, comes a slightly deeper perception about one's self. It seems only fitting that the final episode of Russian Doll stirs up feelings of unfinished business and completeness, simultaneously. Season two is an ambitious journey through the concept of time that serves as an emotional reminder, one cannot escape from what cannot be changed. By @nadreviews  Tim Roth in Sundown (2022) Sundown, written and directed by Michel Franco, unfolds around the magnetism of Tim Roth. The actor plays protagonist Neil Bennett, a character seemingly detached from his surroundings from the start. He is introduced in paradise, spending time with family at a secluded resort in Acapulco. There is something about his presence that feels he is lightyears away from where he is physically, as if he is not existing at all. A distant emergency disrupts the vacation, but this news quickly fades into oblivion given where the story progresses. His family: sister Alice (Charlotte Gainsbourg), and her children Colin (Samuel Bottomley) and Alexa (Albertine Kotting McMillan), appear to be tight-knit. Together upon hearing the news, they don’t think twice about packing and heading for the airport. Neil trails behind with uninhibited demeanor, nonchalantly realizing he’s forgotten his passport and ensures the family fly home without him. Neil’s intentions and reasoning for his actions to follow are tricky to understand, but it is Roth’s knowing gaze that invites curiosity beyond else to see this performance (and this film) through to the end. It is no easy feat to play a character whose emotions are more hidden, and Roth does so with a gut-punch reminder of why he’s such a great actor. For Sundown benefits greatly from a towering talent at the center who can create a simmering tension by way of aura alone. Without uttering any explanation for all the questions his actions conjure up, Roth casts a relaxed spell on this existential puzzle of a story.
Sundown takes a slow-build look at the rising tensions within a wealthy British family, of which Neil is part of. Much like this protagonist who doesn’t seem to be thinking twice, fleeing from one decision to another, the film moves at a measured pace matching the energy he carries. The distant emergency that cuts the Bennett family vacation short is just one of a series of bleak events. Michel Franco does well to frame the story around Neil and his perspective, which itself is shrouded in mystery. Sometimes the director pushes too far into vagueness and starts to lose grip of a story to tell, but Roth’s performance is a strong enough core to anchor the long contemplative takes. The protagonist running away from confronting the cause and effect of his actions makes watching this film consistently unexpected. By the end, Franco’s screenplay reveals a puzzle left unfinished. Sundown sparks conversation around the human urge to be someplace different, to change your surroundings. Neil acts on this urge, though what is most interesting to watch is the space in between his past life and the life he wants elsewhere. It’s the perpetual state of not just being lost, but losing what you had. Those moments of Neil in utter silence and hard-to-read are the most memorable. Sometimes a film comes along where the collaborative magic between an actor and director is felt so strongly. The trust in Tim Roth to lead this journey, holding the key to what makes you feel so inclined for answers and yet kind of pleased not to know, is well-placed. The restraint with which this character leaves one life behind to start another is startling to process. Neil makes awful choices, painful ones that are consequential for his family, especially his sister Alice who is left shellshocked by what has transpired. Charlotte Gainsbourg has the more heightened emotional scenes of the two; she expertly conveys her character’s frustration and the pain of being left behind in the blink of an eye. One scene of an aloof Neil asking Alice to dinner so nonchalantly, after everything that happened between them, is a standout moment indicating just how unnerving it is to watch the consequences of his actions without accountability. Especially when not knowing the thought process behind it all. The unsettled disposition of Neil Bennett calls into memory the protagonist of another recent film: Leda Caruso (Olivia Colman) in The Lost Daughter, Maggie Gyllenhaal’s adaptation of Elena Ferrante’s novel. Albeit, they find themselves at different stages of making difficult choices with familial consequences. While Leda is confronting years-long memories, Neil is fresh in the wake of his decisions. Whoever you think Neil is at sunrise, his character is painted in an entirely new light by sundown, and the pattern repeats. There is more to the character than meets the eye. Tim Roth does a fantastic job of revealing just enough to maintain mystery, without giving too much sway towards a definite conclusion. With impressive restraint in Franco’s direction, matched by Roth’s played-down performance, Sundown shines as a thought-provoking story of a human being in perpetual search not necessarily for something better, but for an awakening from his slumber. Someplace where the warmth of the sun will be there to greet him without interference. Catch Sundown at the TIFF Bell Lightbox starting April 8.  The Canadian Film Fest (CFF) is an indie-spirited festival dedicated to celebrating Canadian filmmakers. The third edition of the festival begins Tuesday, March 22 and will run Tuesday to Saturday for two consecutive weeks, presenting ten feature films and 28 short films as part of the virtual festival experience. This year’s slate of compelling Canadian features and shorts includes 50% female and 40% BIPOC filmmakers.
The scars of family trauma are ones that never really go away. Instead, they are deeply embedded in daily life, difficult to simply get away from. For three brothers and their father, all subjects in Marie-Geneviève Chabot’s documentary Beneath the Surface, a getaway is their beacon of hope for healing. Stéphane, Jean-Pierre, Jérôme, and Laurent hope to find answers; they hope that a fishing trip with dad, who was absent from their childhood, would give them the isolation needed for reflection. Beneath the surface of this fishing trip, lives are entangled with deep regrets and clashing priorities. This is one family’s journey within nature to find what they lost years ago. While Beneath the Surface feels a little lost in its focus, the well-intentioned and heartfelt storytelling gives enough pause for one to reflect on what it means to be a family. Nature itself is both humbling and isolating. Spending time in nature calls on your vulnerable self, providing those moments of silence that can be hard to find elsewhere. But there is also a restlessness that rushes in when reality kicks in. It feels fitting that a fishing trip is the place where this family are attempting to reconcile; they each sit with their emotions, exposed as they are surrounded by nothing but water as far as the eye can see. The setting of this documentary makes the family’s story feel all the more vulnerable and confronting. With nowhere to run or hide, emotion takes center stage. It’s especially intriguing, as well as being relatable, to see the brothers navigate their way through years of hurt with a reluctance to share their feelings vocally. The weight of their presence with their father on the boat as well is enough to speak on the tensions bubbling between them. Marie-Geneviève Chabot doesn’t often veer away from the setting; her documentary sits with the family and lets conversation (or attempts at conversation) flow naturally. While centering the family conflict around a fishing trip draws from nature to heighten vulnerability, the structure of this documentary moves in circles trying to draw bits and pieces of insight from the family. There are certainly moments of powerful emotion bubbling beneath the surface. One of the brothers shares his fear of repeating patterns of abandonment on his own child, having felt the pain of abandonment from his father. Beyond everyone’s individual story, there’s a shared sentiment among the brothers that their children have a relationship with their grandfather, meanwhile the brothers themselves never did. When it comes to family trauma, the very meaning of the word ‘family’ is called into question. How painful it must be to reevaluate and foray into a world of silence, struggling to break through. Marie-Geneviève Chabot explores a lot of untapped emotions and history left to unpack, though in all that’s going on beneath the surface, her direction lacks a clear intention of what she wants to share about giving lens to this family. The documentary tends to sway more to perspective of the brothers’ father, whose defensiveness glosses over the validity of his sons’ experiences. After learning what the sons have kept bottled inside, it is startling to discover their father’s ability to change the channel of the past to move on. The swiftness of simply changing channels, while his sons are left with the ramifications of his absence, sheds light on just how differently people cope with the painful moments they wish not to remember. Beneath the Surface makes resonating conversation not just about lost time and the pain of never getting it back, but also the resilience with which the past gnaws at one’s soul. Beneath the Surface will screen at CFF on Thursday, March 31, 2022. Visit https://www.canfilmfest.ca/how-to-watch for more details. Follow along with CFF @CanFilmFest on Twitter/Instagram with the hashtags #CanFilmFest and #CanFilmFestOnSuperChannel.  The Canadian Film Fest (CFF) is an indie-spirited festival dedicated to celebrating Canadian filmmakers. The third edition of the festival begins Tuesday, March 22 and will run Tuesday to Saturday for two consecutive weeks, presenting ten feature films and 28 short films as part of the virtual festival experience. This year’s slate of compelling Canadian features and shorts includes 50% female and 40% BIPOC filmmakers.
As many of us know, the bond between grandchildren and their grandparents can be such a precious relationship. Having spent most of my childhood with my grandparents, all that time has cultivated a jewel box of memories which only become more meaningful as you age. Often the simplest of moments, just sitting at the dinner table together for instance, tease the shiniest glimmers of hope that somehow, you can go back in time and cherish the simplicity. The sentiment is shared in Kaitlyn Lee’s short film Not My Age, a simple-sounding story that finds resonating emotion through the looking glass of intergenerational bonds. One of 28 new shorts showcased in the Canadian Film Fest this year, Not My Age is a sweet reminder to live each day to the fullest. The story centers on a young-at-heart Korean Grandma who breaks her leg on a nightly adventure with her Granddaughter. From the perspective of a grandmother, the film invites an understanding of the restlessness in aging. The protagonist is reminded of time and the passing of it, but also that age is not a limit when it comes to capabilities. Kaitlyn Lee brings an instinctual, intuitive voice to this story. She follows the emotions of the story, all the feelings from what is left unsaid between the two characters in her film. Maki Yi and Jennifer Cheon both deliver great performances that embody the sweet relationship between grandmother and granddaughter. They evoke a relatable dynamic of the youngest wanting to be more mature, while the oldest has a more rebellious spirit and wants to embody a youthful spirit. Lee draws this dynamic from the grandmother breaking her leg, which is a resonating way of conveying the way physical change can put things into perspective and create more wistfulness for the way things were if that change never happened. Also evocative is the title, Not My Age. A reminder not to utilize age as a determinant factor for what makes people who they are, how they feel, what they are capable of. The film carries a desire of understanding the intergenerational bond between a grandmother and her granddaughter, how the gaps between them can grow closer over time. As well, it’s a refreshing perspective in the coming-of-age genre. Rather than portray the younger character as rebellious or reckless, Lee focuses on the grandmother’s rebellion and ponders on the notion of aging. So often in films, older women are depicted as joyless, “buzzkills” who ruin all the fun, essentially not fully rounded human beings who can be everything at once. Lee brings a more-than-welcome different perspective and shows a character who is far more interesting. Not My Age is a thoughtful, sweet story with a bright glow of promise for filmmaker Kaitlyn Lee. Not My Age will screen with the feature film ‘Beneath the Surface’ at CFF on Thursday March 31, 2022. Visit https://www.canfilmfest.ca/how-to-watch for more details. Follow along with CFF @CanFilmFest on Twitter/Instagram with the hashtags #CanFilmFest and #CanFilmFestOnSuperChannel.  Zoë Kravitz and Robert Pattinson in The Batman (2022) In the sprawling canon of superhero films, Batman and Gotham City have always stood out in terms of the characters and world-building. Among the peaks and plateaus of nocturnal interpretations over the years, writer-director Matt Reeves’ The Batman feels like the most invigorating in a very long time. It’s a fantastical gothic detective story that unscrambles characters and themes with great precision. A fantastic ensemble of actors compliment one another as clues to a bigger picture developing. With glimmers of hope, The Batman dusts off familiar pieces of Gotham’s bleak puzzle to start anew, as a riveting awakening story and a definitive film for its title character. In this story, Batman uncovers corruption in Gotham City that connects to his own family while facing a serial killer known as the Riddler. Each chilling coded note left behind brings Batman closer to the bigger picture the Riddler has been envisioning. The unscrambling of messages, the lurking through evidence, Bruce Wayne going through dusty file folders and choppy surveillance videos…The Batman plays a little like a great 90s detective mystery. The film maintains that tone throughout, each new clue offering another reveal and shedding light on more characters entangled within the festering morals in Gotham City. With the Batman in particular, a director’s take on the character carries just as much weight as their take on Gotham, which is itself another character. The most striking element about Reeves’ depiction of Gotham, is the sense of unease in the veins of those who reside there. The level of mistrust in broken institutions, and that energy the characters give off, feeds into the visual decay and corruption of the city. It’s of course expectedly gloomy and dark, but the production design opens a portal of so much detail, creating something both fantastical and contemporary. The Batman’s production design carries occasional reminders of what Bo Welch was able to do with Tim Burton’s Batman Returns. Reeves’ film paints a gorgeously gothic picture of Gotham that feels real in the characters. Speaking of characters, Robert Pattinson makes a fabulous Batman. He’s a fascinatingly conflicted Bruce Wayne who hasn’t yet reached the comfortability of presenting a suave, polished version to the public. Pattison is an equally interesting Batman; from voice to presence, wonderful work. He so convincingly treads the waters of an inner world split in two. Bruce Wayne’s discomfort with fame by association pushes him farther into nocturnal retreat, where the Batman steps into the shadows and commands the direction. What is interesting about this depiction of Batman is the character’s confrontation with his meaning; what does he symbolize in Gotham? Is vengeance the way to go? The film conveys Batman in a state of slumber; he’s on the brink of an awakening, the realization of just how damaged Gotham is and how deep that cut runs in his own spirit. The screenplay by Matt Reeves does a super job of following these threads like detective work; the more Batman uncovers from the Riddler, the more this search steers Batman to look inward and question why it seems to be that perhaps the Riddler would not exist without him. The psychology of Bruce Wayne/Batman takes a strong central role in Reeves’ film.  Robert Pattinson in The Batman (2022)  Zoë Kravitz in The Batman (2022) The Batman has amassed a talented ensemble to fill orbiting characters in Gotham. Zoë Kravitz’s rendition of Selina Kyle is a magnetic force. From the moment she appears on screen, she exudes mystery and invites an excitement of learning more about her character, and ultimately her reveal as Catwoman. Selina’s intelligence and independence, plus the way she follows her intuition and stands in her own capabilities, gives Kravitz strong material to explore. She certainly makes the character her own, she’s the Catwoman of dreams. As well, Kravitz and Pattinson ooze chemistry. It is striking how devoid so many blockbusters have been of electric chemistry on screen, and these two absolutely deliver. The film draws an interesting relationship sparking between both characters; they have a push-pull magnetism where Selina’s search for justice and revenge takes her on a dangerous path; one that Batman can foresee leading to a point of no return if she acts on that revenge. The cat and the bat segment are among the strongest of the film. The quadruple talents of Paul Dano as the Riddler, Jeffrey Wright as Lt. Gordon, John Turturro as Carmine Falcone, and Colin Farrell as Oz/Penguin is a treat to watch. Dano has been delivering consistently good work, and his interpretation of the Riddler is another gem in his career. A performance that builds on teases (each of which are so unsettling) reaches a climatic point in the third act, clinching everything Dano had been doing to get there. His Riddler is absolutely demented; he’s a chilling menace, and when finally face-to-face with Batman, Dano unleashes all hell. Among the supporting cast, Jeffrey Wright is a big standout. He’s been fantastic in everything for years, and gives a fab performance as Lt. Gordon. Just from watching his chemistry with Pattinson, the crux of the relationship between Gordon and Bruce is sensed right away. Another standout, and fine example of great casting, is John Turturro as mobster Falcone. Turturro’s magnetic presence as an actor is key for this character to jump out and elevate every scene. Then there is Colin Farrell, whose talents are used in a much more cartoonish way. Not a trace of Farrell can be seen in Oz, known also as the Penguin. But as heavy as the makeup and styling clearly is, Farrell’s transformation shines just by the voice and cadence of this character alone. The makeup isn’t doing all the heavy lifting to the point where the performance gets lost. Farrell tailors the physicality instead, the clamminess and the lines on Oz’s face giving another dimension to a character consumed in corruption. Farrell gives a spirited performance that goes cartoon Italian mobster in an enjoyable way. Among the weaker elements of the ensemble are Bruce Wayne’s loyal confidante Alfred. While Andy Serkis is great, something is left missing in that dynamic between the two characters. As well, the buildup to Alfred in danger and the handling of the aftermath feels like a messy element in otherwise precise storytelling. The characters of The Batman are complimented by Greig Fraser’s stunning cinematography and James Chinlund’s intricate production design. The film brings a strong depiction of Batman as a presence; the weight of his image in shadows, stepping into the light, is chilling. The use of lighting and play on shadows is strong throughout. There are plenty of memorable scenes, immaculately orchestrated moments that leave a giddiness behind. The cherry on top is Michael Giacchino’s outstanding melancholy score. It’s suspenseful and brooding, gothic and elevating, with fantastic horror elements sprinkled throughout. Batman's theme carries so much weight, a great mirroring to the character work being done in the film. Giacchino's suite is an incredible blend of mystery and suspense. By the end of Matt Reeves’ The Batman brings a powerful sense of awakening in Bruce Wayne, in the history of his family lineage and in his relationship to Batman. At the core of this film is Batman in confrontation with the meaning of his place in Gotham, in contemplation with whether vengeance is the answer to the rot of this city. With compelling performances by Pattinson and Kravitz, plus an overall entertaining ensemble who bring their A game to Gotham, The Batman puts in the detective work to craft one of the most engaging and distinguishing comic book films. The Batman is now playing in theatres.   Sebastian Stan and Daisy Edgar-Jones in Fresh (2022) The stomach-churning horror stories that have emerged from dating app experiences are more than enough to fuel the frustration of meeting someone in today’s culture. Visibly frustrated is how Mimi Cave’s directorial feature debut Fresh introduces its protagonist Noa (Daisy Edgar-Jones). After a horrible, horrible first date, Noa is fed up with the online dating world…the texting, the awkwardness, the perfect projection. Just when she’s nearly giving up on all the swiping, Noa meets Steve (Sebastian Stan) in the produce section of a grocery store. On the surface, he ticks the seemingly charming boxes. She takes a chance on a refreshing meet-cute and gives him her number. Caught in a whirlwind after their first date, he surprises her with weekend getaway plans at his place…in the middle of nowhere. The obligatory ‘lone car driving down a winding road through cottage country’ horror shot suggests a scenic route to Noa’s impending doom. With a twisted opening credits reveal 30 minutes in, Fresh takes an unsettling turn into queasy and darkly comic territory. All the while, trying to tackle the disturbing subject matter of viewing women as commodities. Mimi Cave puts her own distinct stamp on Fresh. Weaving together elements of horror, dark comedy, and rom-com, Cave draws interesting analogies from the concept of bad online dating experiences. Not just to point out how awful they can be. But on a more interesting level, to spark conversation about the capitalization of modern dating, and the countless dating apps making a profit from filtering based on what bodies are considered more valuable than others. Noa (Edgar-Jones) feels stuck after years of being alone; at what point does she let go of her hopefulness in finding a connection outside of such a tech-dependent culture? Fresh meets her throwing caution to the wind at the first man who walks into her (real) life, his lack of social media a red flag given how much value is placed on having an online presence. Yet at the same time, it’s considered refreshing and a change of pace for the awful experiences Noa had before. The first 30 minutes of Fresh play as a rom-com with a sinister undertone, and piece by piece, Cave begins to deconstruct this too-good-to-be-true guy who shows up out of nowhere, just when Noa is losing all hope. Fresh off her remarkable performance as Marianne in Normal People, Daisy Edgar-Jones thankfully has the talent to lift the way her character Noa is written. Jones brings an unwavering commitment to the film’s tone and maintains a strong connection throughout. Wonderful and spirited as she is, especially considering the duality she brings in the second half of Fresh, Noa isn’t as well written a character as hoped for. When the story takes its twists and turns, it’s more apparent not much time was spent getting to know this character during the introductory world-building. The film feeds into a detached portrayal of Noa, where she’s more of a playing piece in a board game than a multi-layered person. Perhaps this shift is Cave’s way of showing a loss of agency in these unfortunate trappings, but even so, there does feel to be a missed opportunity in not spending more time with Noa’s inner voice.   Steve is the more fleshed out character of the two leads, and Sebastian Stan takes up the opportunity with a psychotic performance. He balances on a thin line of awkwardly charming, enough to stand out but not too much to drive people away. This energy he gives to the ‘rom-com’ part of the film never feels innocent. He brings subtle undertones of bullshit to the person he projects to Noa, and then the performance becomes unlike anything the actor has done before: creepy to a hellish degree. Stan has strong chemistry with Edgar-Jones; they leave the viewer tense in anticipation for what the other one does next. Though there’s more material given to the character of Steve, generally the character development in Fresh does feel as though key ingredients are missing. The story incorporates more of Steve’s point of view, the duality of his world, and slowly abandons the duality of Noa’s that the film promisingly starts with. Faring worse, the supporting roles and particularly roles of colour, feel more like tropes than human beings. Especially Noa’s BFF Mollie; Jojo T. Gibbs is excellent but her talent is undermined by stereotypical sidekick writing.
The screenplay by Lauryn Kahn doesn’t have the consistent energy of Mimi Cave’s direction. Cave’s haunting visualization and persistent closeups, often depicting pieces of characters’ faces as though highlighting most valuable parts, bring an interesting style to how scenes are shot. As well the frequent use of red in the production design, lighting, and costume design adds to the hellscape that is the majority of this film. It’s discomforting to watch at times, not just due to some gruesomeness, but also the ‘popified’ sequences that turn an unsettling scene into something out of a crazy 80s music video. The needle drops in Fresh add to Cave’s more campy dark comedy approach. Cave looks for ways to visualize conversation surrounding how women are viewed as pieces of meat, that so much value is placed on women’s appearances. Given how tech-dependent today’s dating culture is, certain body types/specific features are viewed as deal breakers and indicators of how far one advances to a first date, the next stage, and so on. Cave brings a ferociousness to the subject matter in terms of how certain scenes are shot. But the screenplay doesn’t quite match that hunger, leaving a lot of interesting themes to float on the surface but aren’t worked into strong enough allegories to have a more emotional impact. Spirited, committed performances by Daisy Edgar-Jones and Sebastian Stan make Fresh engaging to watch. Edgar-Jones especially has such an inherently lovable quality, it’s immediate to feel her frustration and stay connected to her at all times. The story itself benefits from knowing as little about the plot points as possible. While its impact doesn’t feel as clever as perhaps intended, it’s a compelling and exciting feature debut for Mimi Cave. Fresh is well-acted and entertaining to watch, though not without leaving a bad taste afterwards when the dating nightmares are over. Fresh drops March 4th on Disney+.  2021 was one of the strongest and most exciting years in film. So many different stories have been etched in my memory, and plenty reflecting the times we are living in on fascinating levels. From Natalie Morales’ depiction of virtual platonic love in Language Lessons, and moral dilemma in Pedro Almodovar’s Parallel Mothers, to what makes humans so intricately human in Joachim Trier’s The Worst Person in the World. This year saw a variety of subject matter tackled by some of the greatest living directors, including Jane Campion’s long-awaited return with The Power of the Dog. As well, many first-timers brought exciting feature debuts to the screen; Emma Seligman’s Shiva Baby, Shatara Michelle Ford’s Test Pattern, and Maggie Gyllenhaal’s The Lost Daughter to name a few standouts. Here are 25 of the best films of 2021, counting down to a top-five writeup. The * symbol indicates a feature debut.
25. The Electrical Life of Louis Wain (dir. Will Sharpe) Streaming on Prime Video Canada Gorgeous cinematography, a near-career best performance by Benedict Cumberbatch, a delightful Claire Foy, and a lot of cats. Will Sharpe’s portrait of a grieving artist has an enjoyable whimsical melody, endearing characters, and a strong sense of humour. 24. Bergman Island (dir. Mia Hansen-Løve) Available to rent or buy on iTunes Mia Wasikowska dances to ABBA’s The Winner Takes It All. But wait, there’s more! This story of a filmmaking couple who spend time on the island of Fårö (where Ingmar Bergman spent his final days) is an intriguing reflection on creativity and boundaries. Bergman Island has a quiet build and a lot to say. 23. Cyrano (dir. Joe Wright) Now playing in select cinemas Joe Wright’s latest film, a baroque love story and musical retelling of famed poet Cyrano de Bergerac, is his best in years. There are quite a few reasons, but perhaps none as persuading as Peter Dinklage’s beautiful performance at the center. With charisma and an open heart, his moving performance exudes such powerful yearning. 22. Luca (dir. Enrico Casarosa) Streaming on Disney+ Anchored by a sweet friendship, Luca is an adorable fish-out-of-water story with a big heart. The film holds its own in a sea of highly regarded top tier Pixar films and wholeheartedly succeeds as a charming underdog story. A sunny delight that, underneath its simple surface, makes a big splash with an emotionally satisfying conclusion. Okay, no more water-related word play. 21. Zola* (dir. Janicza Bravo) Available to rent or buy on iTunes What. A. Story. Based on a Twitter thread posted by @_zolarmoon in 2015, Janicza Bravo brings a hypnotizing cinematic quality to a wild series of events. Taking the story to a whole new level are the talented ensemble of actors gathered, from Taylour Paige and Riley Keough to MVP Colman Domingo. With a fun score and stunning cinematography, Zola is unforgettable.
20. Dune (dir. Denis Villeneuve) Streaming on HBO Max Oh yes, Villeneuve did that. Dune is dreamy and majestic. The entire production of it all is overwhelming, an impressive spectacle in storytelling. The breadcrumbs of character shifts are wonderfully placed, and the ensemble of actors make their marks, featuring a haunting performance by Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica. 19. Test Pattern* (dir. Shatara Michelle Ford) Available to rent or buy on iTunes Shatara Michelle Ford's Test Pattern is a stirring depiction of their vision. The story follows an interracial couple whose relationship is put to the test after a Black woman is sexually assaulted. The coldness with which Ford’s character is dismissed is telling of an even bigger story that women’s lives, particularly women of colour, are disregarded by the healthcare system. Led by Ford’s remarkable performance, Test Pattern confronts a harrowing subject with clarity. 18. The Green Knight (dir. David Lowery) Available to rent or buy on iTunes Epic is the first word that comes to mind on first watch of The Green Knight. It’s an immersive experience that swirls in thought-provoking ideas and leaves plenty behind to digest. It’s a complex tale of knighthood that questions how far one would go to uphold such a title and claim its responsibilities (and consequences). With a mighty performance by Dev Patel, the protagonist Gawain is brought to life so vividly. His curiosity and sheer ambition for honor are such a treat to watch. 17. The Tragedy of Macbeth (dir. Joel Coen) Streaming on Apple TV+ Coen finds cinematic weight in the Scottish play, using minimalist sound stages as the canvas for a wrathful tale of ambition. Emotions take center stage through the vessels of mighty performances; from the instantly charismatic and compelling Denzel Washington, to the sparkling wit and screen presence of Frances McDormand. Then there’s Kathryn Hunter in a league of her own, a phenomenal display of physicality as a trio of witches. The film may feel out of reach with heavy dialogue, but grows into an absorbing experience. 16. Pig* (dir. Michael Sarnoski) Available to rent or buy on iTunes Featuring Nicolas Cage’s finest performance in years, Pig resonates as a compelling character study of a truffle hunter’s love for his pig. The screenplay by Vanessa Block and Michael Sarnoski is a gem to uncover. What resonates most about Pig is its depiction of isolation as an extension of grief, and just how meaningful something can be when it’s all a person believes they have left.
15. Spencer (dir. Pablo Larraín) Available to rent or buy on iTunes Standing out as a fable, Larraín brings a distinct perspective to Spencer that is so defiantly a unique story of character. Set apart from various portrayals of Princess Diana over the years, the film has an interesting ghostly element, as though being haunted by a previous life. Working wonders with Kristen Stewart as the beloved icon, Spencer is a stunning achievement. 14. The Novice* (dir. Lauren Hadaway) Available to rent or buy on iTunes The Novice is a remarkable ride on an obsessive, psychological journey. Written and directed by Lauren Hadaway, it’s an intense character study and takes the plunge into experimental filmmaking. Isabelle Fuhrmann is a powerhouse. She commands the screen, takes the audience down a rabbit hole of tears, tension, and unwavering drive. Hold onto your paddles, this film moves at lighting speed and never lets up. 13. Language Lessons* (dir. Natalie Morales) Available to rent or buy on iTunes Natalie Morales’ endearing Language Lessons is a heartfelt platonic love story. One that works through grief, healing, and the unwavering power of human connection no matter the distance. Shot entirely through computer and phone screens, the film chronicles a friendship that develops between Spanish teacher Cariño (Natalie Morales) and her student Adam (Mark Duplass). Morales and Duplass are so brilliant to watch, their magical chemistry soars. 12. C’mon C’mon (dir. Mike Mills) Available to rent or buy on iTunes There is something both so personal and universal about the films of Mike Mills, as if he is writing a letter only to you, and that letter carries secrets of the world inside. Mills reaches new heights with his best yet C’mon C’mon, a film full of wonder and empathy for life. The characters are so well written and, much like reality, are everything all at once. Joaquin Phoenix and Gabby Hoffman are great, but it is newcomer Woody Norman who steals the show with a moving performance. 11. Passing* (dir. Rebecca Hall) Streaming on Netflix Canada That this is a debut feature film is itself a ravishing accomplishment. Passing feels like the magnum opus of someone who’s had multiple films under their belt. From the art direction and cinematography, to the music and the costume design, these achievements show so much care for detail. Then there are the performances, the extraordinary Ruth Negga who beams in every scene, the brilliant Tessa Thompson showing even more of her range. Together they are just magnetic to watch, from beginning to one of the most intriguing endings of the year.
10. The Mitchells vs. The Machines* (dir. Mike Rianda) Streaming on Netflix Canada From the creators of Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse comes another must-see adventure. The Mitchells vs. The Machines is an imaginative delight and a loving embrace of individuality. Whether it be watching or making or starring in movies, the celebration of this medium truly shines on screen, as do many resonating themes. Now more than ever, loved ones are having to find new ways of connecting with each other during a time when technology rules all. The Mitchells are here as an entertaining, poignant reminder to protect and nourish human connection. 9. Flee (dir. Jonas Poher Rasmussen) Available to rent or buy on iTunes This is powerful storytelling. A remarkably artful documentary by filmmaker Jonas Poher Rasmussen, based on true events. Different styles of animation visualize the experiences of Rasmussen's long-time friend, Amin Nawabi (a pseudonym), who fled Afghanistan as a boy and confronts his past in telling his story. The shift between places and timelines is masterfully done. Amin's words in Flee (full of courage, hope, pain, and love) carry the story with a gently powerful urgency. 8. Petite Maman (dir. Céline Sciamma) Packing a punch with a fleeting runtime, Petite Maman is a bittersweet experience in which every minute is precious for its characters. As magical as it is melancholy, the enchanting story of a friendship between two girls speaks to the delicate threads embedded on the path from childhood to adulthood. This gentle tale of women’s connections, told through the motions of time, is another absolute winner from Céline Sciamma. 7. The Lost Daughter* (dir. Maggie Gyllenhaal) Streaming on Netflix Canada It's rare to see portrayals of women on film that are not cookie-cutter versions of themselves. So, it’s a treat to watch performances of female characters in The Lost Daughter without the inhibitions of shallow, aesthetic direction. Gyllenhaal’s direction and adapted screenplay work wonders with rich material. Olivia Colman, Jessie Buckley, and Dakota Johnson are all marvelous in their unique ways. The Lost Daughter is haunting, every bit nightmarish as it is dreamy. 6. Titane (dir. Julia Ducournau) Going in without knowing anything about Titane is the way to go. What a fascinating, thrilling ride this film is. Julia Ducournau instantly pulls you into this world and gives one hundred percent attention to every detail. Agathe Rousselle’s performance is absolutely extraordinary; funny, haunting, unpredictable, riveting. It’s a real shame this performance went mostly unnoticed during award season, though at least comforting that the film found a passionate audience. Titane is all-absorbing and on fire.
5. Shiva Baby* (dir. Emma Seligman) Available to rent or buy on iTunes Emma Seligman’s stunning debut feature Shiva Baby is a funny, invigorating, fully realized pressure cooker. Expanding on her short film of the same name, Seligman creates an anxiety-inducing experience in the most compelling of ways. She explores a young woman coming of age while facing family dynamics, traditions, sexuality, post-college pressure, and power shifts in relationships. The story is a day in the life of Danielle (Rachel Sennott), who attends a shiva (a mourning tradition in the Jewish community), where she runs into her sugar daddy Max (Danny Deferrari) and her ex-girlfriend Maya (Molly Gordon). Seligman tells an incredibly grounded and authentic story rooted in universal themes that resonate down to the tiniest details. Shiva Baby is a remarkable blend of comedy and drama, with hints of horror that add a layer of tension to the story. The drama and tension are conveyed to perfection by Rachel Sennott. In a brilliant performance so completely in tune with her character, Sennott gives a masterclass on how to embrace complexities, vulnerability, and lean into truthfulness. 4. Parallel Mothers (dir. Pedro Almodóvar) Now playing in select cinemas Parallel Mothers marks the eighth collaboration between Pedro Almodóvar and Penélope Cruz, showing a remarkable synergy between two artists in search of pieces to a creative puzzle. Two expectant mothers (played by Cruz and newcomer Milena Smit) who meet at a hospital give birth on the same day, unexpectedly altering the course of their lives. The film explores the emotional intensity of relationships, the internal challenges mothers face, and how guilt gnaws at one's core. Cruz is remarkable in this film and gives one of her best performances to date. Also impressive is Milena Smit, in her first major film role, going toe-to-toe with a legend. The story of Parallel Mothers is an urgent letter to healing from old wounds. Almodóvar links contemporary motherhood to a real reckoning across Spain: mass graves, holding those killed during the Spanish Civil War, that after decades are being opened. The years families lost from not being able to find and bury their loved ones, to show their respects with dignity and human rights, is touched upon in the film. Parallel Mothers is a passionate confessional of moving material, building patiently towards painful but necessary confrontations. It's a mystery, melodrama, film noir, and thriller wrapped in one exceptional love letter to families.
3. Drive My Car (dir. Ryusuke Hamaguchi) It can feel daunting to approach lengthy films, but the art of the slow burn is mastered so beautifully in writer-director Ryusuke Hamaguchi's Drive My Car. Adapted from a short story by Haruki Murakami, Drive My Car has layers upon layers of storytelling. Mysteries are awakened. But with any good mystery comes a sense of clarity afterward, that somehow what you've been searching for presents itself through unexpected ways. In the best possible way, Drive My Car feels like a very long car drive. At a certain point, it feels like you're no longer in a car, but someplace else where anything is possible. All that lies ahead are open roads. Drive My Car casts a remarkable spell and commands attention in quiet details. The film has a sprawling story within a story, inviting many interpretations. Hamaguchi takes such time exploring and developing the characters. With great patience and restraint, the story stirs gently to create a resonating emotional impact by its conclusion. 2. The Worst Person in the World (dir. Joachim Trier) Now playing in select cinemas The title of Joachim Trier's latest film is a perfect one. It's a sentiment felt by so many people, who really aren't the worst in the grand scheme of things, but feel this way for their lives looking different than what societal pressures have carved as "standard". The Worst Person In The World is a relatable overstatement for its protagonist Julie (Renate Reinsve), a young woman whose aimless outlook on life sees her make short-lived plans and roads less traveled. The film takes a look at four years in her life, flowing from one circumstance to the next. The story is told from her perspective, but the film feels every bit universal as it does specific to Julie's experiences. Renate Reinsve's remarkable performance, playing such a multi-faceted human being, really conveys what beats at the core of human existence: the need to be understood, to be loved. This film is a gem, a breath of fresh air.  Benedict Cumberbatch in The Power of the Dog 1. The Power of the Dog (dir. Jane Campion)
Streaming on Netflix Canada Packed in each and every frame of the film is a desire to revisit them, to bask in the clues Jane Campion so richly shares. A moment between two characters sharing a cigarette, made exciting and unpredictable by the power of Campion’s eye. The richness of her storytelling is a feast with lingering leftovers. From the memorable Jonny Greenwood score to the startling accomplishments of brilliant casting, The Power of the Dog has the kind of staying power that warrants several revisits. Benedict Cumberbatch has never been better, Kodi Smit-McPhee commands his scenes, and Kirsten Dunst reminds why she’s one of the most compelling in the game. Jane Campion’s tackling of toxic masculinity and lost souls is an unsettling piece of storytelling. A slow-building queer Western thriller, simmering in personal aggression and defeat.  Zoë Kravitz in Kimi (2022) It comes at no surprise that the new film from one of the most consistently great directors in the industry is excellent. Given Steven Soderbergh’s track record and the sense of expectation when approaching his work, he still manages to bring an element of surprise to his films. His latest, a techno thriller called Kimi, is no exception. The experience of watching Kimi is like being caught in a nightmarish haze. Cliff Martinez’s gorgeous, dreamy score harkens back to Hitchcockian sounds, and heightens suspense. Zoë Kravitz stars as protagonist Angela Childs, an agoraphobic voice stream interpreter for a big tech company. Angela becomes unwittingly entangled in a series of unfortunate events. The real-life pandemic lingers in the background, just enough to recognize but works its way into David Koepp’s screenplay on such an organic level. Particularly relatable to the way many people are experiencing the COVID pandemic today, whether it be working remotely, or finding it difficult to rejoin the outside world. Beyond that, the increased feelings of isolation, frustration, and paranoia living in a forever-changed world. Kimi tackles so many subjects in delicately drawn ways, amplified through actions instead of overtly explained monologues. The plot sounds bare bones on paper; while listening to a stream picked up by a Kimi device (think Amazon Alexa), Angela (played by Kravitz) discovers evidence of a crime. She reports to the powers in charge and finds herself tangled in a much bigger spiderweb than initially thought. Taking justice into her own hands, she must leave her apartment to piece a dangerous puzzle. Kimi is an intriguing paranoia thriller for the digital ages, featuring a wonderful performance by Zoë Kravitz. Leave it to Soderbergh to take a story that’s been done plenty before - expertly in the case of Francis Ford Coppola’s The Conversation, for instance - and still make the film flow with a fresh signature voice. The same can be said for Cliff Martinez’s score, which has hints of influence from composers such as Bernard Herrmann, but exists as its own unique and varied accomplishment. The film radiates this energy all around, with a compelling performance by Zoë Kravitz leading the way. From the writing, to the screen presence and precision Kravitz brings to this character, Angela Childs is a multi-layered role, perfect for a showcase of range. It’s always a treat to watch how the smallest of details can say so much about a character, and Kravitz relishes in such moments. From the scenes of Angela bracing herself to open her apartment door, to the impromptu conversations she shares with her mother. To see her agoraphobia portrayed in a thoughtful way, not as a big plot point but as something she has grown to live with, is a refreshing direction Soderbergh takes. Angela is an interesting protagonist and makes the story all the more intriguing to watch. Soderbergh first keeps the film at home base. A slow-build introduces Angela in her element, complete with an extensive WFH tech setup allowing her to stream and fix communication errors between Kimi and its users. Her day-to-day routine is suddenly turned upside down, when she overhears a violent crime on one of the recordings. A fight for justice brings Angela outside her home in the middle of a pandemic, to the office of tech boss Natalie Chowdhury (Rita Wilson). Chowdhury’s blatant dismissal of Angela’s concerns sparks a bigger conversation, and it’s clear Angela isn’t the only one listening.  In addition to being an engaging starring vehicle for Kravitz, Kimi is a great showcase of Soderbergh’s knack for being ahead of the curve when it comes to exploring certain subject material. The research he conducted when preparing for his 2011 film Contagion, a box office hit at the time which then became one of the most watched films of 2020, suggested an outbreak was imminent. On a whole other thread, the increase in remote employment and education during the pandemic has made it scarily easy for companies and schools to not only monitor work, but also control access. The virtual assistant device in Kimi shows the dangers surveillance technology poses on the privacy and safety of its users. Plus, the potential horrors if this information gets into the wrong hands. Having this possibility at the back of Angela’s mind brings a lot of tensity to the situation she’s in, especially in the second half when she takes justice into her own hands to find the pieces of a conspiracy puzzle. Soderbergh excels at making Kimi feel fresh and exciting even with frequent nods to other films that have a clear influence. One of which is a fun throwback to the 90s classic Home Alone, given the casting of Devin Ratray (a.k.a. “Buzz”) in a supporting role named Kevin. The film plays on the subject of surveillance with the physicality of this character. He lives in the building across from Angela’s and appears to be watching her alone through his window from time to time, the intentions of which are revealed later. Home is supposed to be a place of protection and safety, but can also be one of fear when violated. Then there’s the added layer of COVID, the paranoia that has emerged with lockdowns, and the devastating effects on mental health. Rather than making this COVID-set film directly about the pandemic, Soderbergh zeroes in on the narratives happening in spite of it, because of it, along with it. The way Angela has grown to adapt at home, for instance, is an intriguing thread to follow. As is the potentiality of a relationship between her and Terry (Byron Bowers), a neighbor across the street with whom she tries to follow through with an outdoor date on more than one occasion. Kimi is a taut techno thriller and Soderbergh’s best film in years, not exactly a knock against him given the decades-long consistency of his work. With a compact runtime, a brilliant score, and clever camera angles, Kimi makes smart moves in grabbing the viewer’s attention and maintaining it. Having a skilled performer at the center, Zoë Kravitz in a career-high performance as Angela Childs, keeps the journey of Kimi an engaging one. She carries the story on her shoulders and draws you in with an instant charisma, while precisely peeling back the layers of her character, each one more revealing than the last. A variety of interesting subjects are at play here, all of which are very much rooted in reality and the ever-present dangers of living in an increasingly advanced digital age. If you're not already side-eyeing your Amazon Alexa... Kimi is now streaming on Crave Canada and HBO Max.  A still from Charli XCX: Alone Together (2022) Social media is full of countless pitfalls; from the perpetuation of unrealistic expectations, to a manufactured online presence that cherry-picks the greatest aesthetic hits. The silver lining in this sensory overload is the space given for people to find a sense of community and belonging. There will always be a yearning for human connection, made even more apparent over the past few years of collective isolation during a pandemic. Music can be that strengthening tool to bring people together from around the world. Whether one is a fan of a particular artist or not, the influence many of them have on people is crystal clear. In Bradley Bell and Pablo Jones-Soler's documentary Charli XCX: Alone Together, fans of the successful pop artist are in for an intimate vignette of her day-to-day process, where she creates her brand new album 'how i'm feeling now' in 5 weeks during the start of the pandemic. While this is a documentary about Charli XCX, her fans (known as Angels) are given just as much screen time, and the reciprocation of support makes this an endearing watch. The meshing of these perspectives sheds light on the artist’s impact on her fans, as well as her own insecurity in finding her voice and how best to share it with the rest of the world. Clocking in at 67 minutes, Charli XCX: Alone Together is a fairly enjoyable whirlwind of what goes into making an album during lockdown.
The most endearing part of this documentary is indeed the influence Charli XCX has on fans from around the globe. The journey of making a new album is for them; she invites Angels to be part of the creative process in real time, and opens herself up to constant feedback (and criticism). From curbing their enthusiasm and getting creative with a home studio, to the effects of isolation on mental health, the documentary touches upon plenty of subjects to maintain an interest all the way through. At the core, unwavering focus is brought to the connection between Charli XCX and her fans, as depicted in a wave of personal social media videos, messages of enthusiastic support and live interactions. The use of social media graphics throughout is a nice touch that reinforces the power of social media. Juxtaposed with words of encouragement from loved ones and fans, the documentary makes a point of stressing it is possible to find acceptance and form connections in the digital age we are all living in. Beyond all the fanfare, Charli XCX: Alone Together addresses the question, what comes after success? When Charli XCX kicked off her first online tour in 2019 for her album Charli, she felt very much in control of her whole career in the pop music industry. Her beginnings were not carefully crafted; without having a particular goal or career plan, she just wanted to share her music with the world. It’s thoughtful to see how this sentiment repeats itself at a time when people are collectively isolated; that the artist’s response to isolation is to be creative and make things. The documentary briefly shows how Charli XCX comes to the decision to create a new album live in 5 weeks time, and getting fans involved along the way. At times Charli XCX: Alone Together feels more like a fan-made collection of videos than an in-depth look at its title subject. Sprinkled in between the fan videos is behind-the-scenes footage of her inner journey. The insecurity, the lack of creativity and fulfillment, the stress of not delivering her next album and trying to combat expectations. It would have been interesting to see a more candid approach at her evolvement as an artist in phases, and how she’s bene able to navigate industry experiences. There is a lot of sensory overload, from home footage and backstage glimpses to Instagram videos and news headlines. But once the noise settles, it becomes clear that the core of this documentary is being alone together. It’s about experiencing self-isolation as a collective through music, and the healing power music can have on mental health. Beneath all the vignettes is the unity of listening to an artist you love with a community of people who share in your interests. There is an added layer of the world going through a pandemic. Of course, everyone is experiencing this crisis in drastically different ways, and many are in a privileged position not to be so severely impacted. The documentary makes smart moves focusing intently on the bonding power of music in a time when a lot of people are searching for a connection. This is an endearing documentary for Charli XCX fans, who get to see themselves reflected on screen through an intimate portrait of the artist’s music-making journey. Charli XCX: Alone Together releases February 24 on Amazon Prime Video. |
RSS Feed
