 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.
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 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.  Kristen Bell in The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window (2022) The line between sincerity and satire is very thin in the adeptly titled Netflix limited series, The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window. Starring and executive-produced by Kristen Bell, The Woman in the House (for short) is a smattering of psychological thrillers that center on “the hysterical woman,” one whose eye witness accounts of crimes are chalked up to “just imagining things”. Series creators Rachel Ramras, Hugh Davidson and Larry Dorf stretch this plot device to eight thirty-minute episodes, each throwing a wrench in expectations. So much is at play in the story, filled with subplots as extra as the series title. In a pile of twists and turns thrown at the viewer, The Woman in the House finds what works and delivers it on a tightrope. At first, it’s a mystery whether the story will fully lean into its satirical slant, if it will surrender to absurdity or carve something more ingenuous from the chaos. The series pokes fun at all the tropes and cliches to be found in its derivative material. The creators also find interesting points to chew on that speak to the addictive quality of psychological murder-mystery stories, and what keeps the viewer hungry in anticipation for a new reveal. The earlier episodes stumble most from standing out amongst the very stories they satirical aim at. Once the screenplay finds its groove, though not particularly memorable in afterthought, it’s easy to fall down the binge-worthy rabbit hole of The Woman in the House. Every night, Anna (Kristen Bell) fills up her glass with wine and cozies up on her sofa by the window, watching the lives of others while hers stays the same. Anna suffers from Ombrophobia, a fear of rain originating from a personal tragedy involving rain. The extreme anxiety attacks keep her inside most nights as a precaution in case skies turn grey. But when neighbor Neil (Tom Riley) and his daughter Emma (Samsara Leela Yett) move in across the street, possibilities light up for Anna. Perhaps a fresh start, a new relationship…a picturesque family to fill the void following a traumatic experience. Stepping outside becomes a little easier. A future seems within reach, until one night she witnesses a murder. Or did she? The age-old question in countless psychological thrillers, ones that portray women’s experiences as hallucinations, that everything they see is actually all in their head and not a serious threat in real life. Most recently, Joe Wright’s adaptation of The Woman in the Window epitomizes the “hysterical woman” not to be trusted, using its protagonist’s mental illness as a means of discrediting her experiences. This is just one of many familiar threads The Woman in the House touches upon, in a way that combines satire with straightforwardness. There’s a wink and a nudge to cliche, and beneath that, a trusting quality towards the protagonist. After Anna witnesses a murder and tells people what she saw, the responses are excessively and expectedly skeptical. Anna’s point of view is deliberately shrouded in hallucination and making the viewer question what is real. But with each episode, the series further stresses there’s a nugget of truth to her perspective. At first it’s not clear which direction the creators want to take. Will the creators fully lean into the satirical slant? Are they trying to find something fresh from a mishmash of repetitive psychological mystery plot devices? The Woman in the House is a bit of both, and while it takes some time to find a happy medium, the absurdity of it all along with an ensemble of game actors make the experience entertaining. Kristen Bell is an actress whose work is mostly unfamiliar to me, hit television shows Veronica Mars and The Good Place being the biggest blind spots. Bell finds plenty to have fun with as Anna, walking that tightrope of playing satire with utmost sincerity. Once a thriving painter, now finds herself drowning in wine and watching life pass her by, reading books like ‘The Woman on the Cruise’. The character lives vicariously through others, with a yearning underneath to somehow return to what her life once was. Bell perfects that duality and gives a performance well suited to the repetitive material. The dialogue moves amusingly in circles, with some vague inspirational quotes thrown in, saying a lot of words without actually saying anything. Bell and a strong supporting cast know exactly what they’re in and deliver fun performances, flipping multiple sides to their characters and adding intrigue to the story. Each episode uses subplots as building blocks, finding so many variations of similar material as the title clearly references. Yet there is still something about this psychological mystery storytelling that makes it easy for the viewer to feel invested and stay for the reveals, of which the series has plenty. Being glued to the screen, for answers to a story soaked in silliness, speaks to its binge-power. Is there much to ponder and chew on when it’s all over? Not quite, but the creators earn their chuckles along the way, indulging in the twists and concluding with their juiciest reveal. The creators have the last laugh with The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window. Keeping the viewer guessing and present in the moment, it’s a series best to binge and enjoy the ride, with a glass of wine or two. All episodes of The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl in the Window arrive January 28 on Netflix.  Thekla Reuten in Marionette (2022) One of the ill-fated characters in Elbert van Strien's film Marionette explains that his purpose in this story is to stop the protagonist from thinking. “Don’t think; that’s where all the troubles begin.” Unfortunately this sentiment seems to have overextended to the filmmakers. For the way Marionette unfolds skirts on the surface of its premise and doesn’t delve deep enough to make a resonating impact on the viewer. Marionette tells the story of therapist Dr. Marianne Winter (Thekla Reuten), whose world falls apart when ten-year-old Manny (Elijah Wolf) claims he can control her future. Marianne’s beginnings are somewhat promising; the film introduces her on the move to Scotland. In an attempt to leave behind the residue of a traumatic event, she’s hopeful for a fresh start in life. However, another nightmare is waiting for her in Scotland, as the grey skies and moody atmosphere amplify. Marianne attempts to settle in her new job, the replacement for a children’s psychologist, and meets a troubled child whose drawings hold a strange power. Marionette ponders on the threads of discussing fate vs. free will. Who is pulling the strings of one’s life? How much power does one individual really have to change their own trajectory? Despite how open-ended such questions are, the film leaves nothing to the imagination, instead indulging in one ‘psychological thriller’ cliche after another.
However intriguing a concept is in theory, put into action without focus is another story. Marionette feels directionless; it’s a mystery to solve what van Strien is wanting to say, beyond blatantly pointing out the ‘marionette’ concept at any opportunity. Not much time is given for the viewer to feel connected to the protagonist, and get to know more about her. Marianne is very much in service to a lackluster plot. For a little while, the film begins with the promise of slowly introducing characters as pieces of a puzzle, each one potentially revealing more about what situation Marianne has gotten herself into in Scotland. But the promise for something intriguing quickly dissipates. The film is shrouded in mystery; not in the way that invites curiosity and encourages wonder, but at a level that’s puzzling and frustrating to surrender disbelief to. Marianne is encouraged to entertain a fresh start; with a new job, a potential new companion, a new setting, the story sets up a whole other universe for her. Though much gloomier than the warm and fuzzy flashbacks she occasionally has of a past life. In Marianne’s new life, she is encouraged by colleagues not to go digging or ask questions, despite one child in particular exhibiting some disturbing behavior. The child is attracted to disasters like a magnet. His pictures each represent a horrific event that becomes real when he finishes drawing them. Like marionettes controlling puppets, these drawings seal fate on paper. The concept tries to create a narrative from the cliché often seen in horror movies of children drawing scary, alarming pictures meant to alert their guardians that something is wrong. But the film operates from a level of presuming the story is far cleverer than it is. Marionette moves ten steps ahead of the story, and tacks on unnecessary narration from the protagonist spelling out what’s going on, which takes away greatly from the mystery of how the film will unfold. Muddled dialogue does the actors no favors; decent as most of them are, any sense of mystique is weighed down by an over explanatory screenplay. Unfortunately what’s left is an underwhelming piece of storytelling that buckles under the over reliance of its ‘marionette’ concept. Rather than see the story through with a coherent plot, van Strien spells out every twist and turn along the way. Ultimately taking the wind from its sails and leaving little to no room for the stakes to feel real. Marionette is now available to watch on VOD.  A still from Belle (2022), courtesy of GKIDS The gorgeously animated Belle explores the consuming experience of not just having digital platforms as a part of life, but living life inside of one. Writer-director Mamoru Hosoda unveils U, an empowering virtual reality in which people become avatars and vie for popularity among millions. U is a place where anything is possible and anyone can become who they want to be, or at least, who they want to present to the rest of the world. For 17-year-old Suzu, the film’s protagonist, U is an alternate reality away from personal grief and loss. In a remarkable marriage of reality and virtual reality, the story draws out the beauty of making meaningful connections from a digital world. With hints of inspiration from Beauty and the Beast, the film feels like a cyber fairytale. The stunning animation, contrasting virtual reality with the serenity of nature’s landscapes, adds remarkable dimension to the dueling worlds at play in Belle. The story follows high school student Suzu (Kaho Nakamura); she lives in a rural village as a shell of her former self, following a tragic event years earlier. But when Suzu joins the massive online world U, she becomes her persona Belle, a singing sensation who takes the platform by storm overnight. Belle is a transformative figure for Suzu; for one, Belle’s image encompasses an epitome of “standard” beauty and further reinforces a perfected, idealized version of self. From Suzu’s perspective, Belle mirrors the prettiest girl in her class, and amasses fans greatly outnumbering her own friends. As well, Belle’s voice in the virtual world draws from Suzu’s hidden talent in real life. U is where Suzu is able to sing the way she used to, helped by her tech wiz friend Hiroka (Lilas Ikuta) and the instantaneous love coming from millions of viewers. But not all are intent on keeping up appearances and carrying on with the show. One of Belle’s highly anticipated performances is interrupted by an avatar notoriously known as The Dragon (Takeru Satoh). The Dragon is chased out of the performing arena by vigilantes, who’ve been trying to unmask the avatar and consequentially reveal the person behind the screen to keep order in U. The Dragon and Belle cross orbits in the chase, inspiring Suzu in the real world to dig up details about this mysterious avatar and answer the many questions swirling in her mind. The journey leads to an emotional exploration of truth, the reverberating power of being vulnerable and sharing one’s self in a world full of anonymity. Mamoru Hosoda does a wonderful job conveying the double edged sword of anonymity in the digital age. How it gives rise to cruelty without consequence, how it offers escapism for those searching for another life to exist in. On a more positive note, how it sees strangers band together to carry acts of justice, rallying around those in need of support. The film has a strong balance between all the mixed emotions from being a product of this digital world, and trying to find sources of real intimacy from behind the virtual facades that people put up. Hosada strikes a fine line between emphasizing a fantasy world and getting lost in it. With a refreshing perspective, he is actually pushing the story closer and closer to truth. The more this film unfolds, the less artificial it becomes.   Stills from Belle (2022), courtesy of GKIDS At its core Belle is a story of compassion and selflessness in the face of struggle. It’s clear with every direction, and all roads lead to the film’s protagonist. Her traumatic past is the bridge between real life and fantasy. Belle merges not just virtual reality and real life, but also Suzu’s past and present. Her most cherished, and most painful memories, along with her hopes for the future. It’s interesting to learn more about her character through the good and bad of the online world, and through her developing a relationship with The Dragon whose identity she grows more protective of. The journey of these characters is an empowering one, about finding your voice and standing in your own truth. Suzu is able to unlock the power she holds within, and work through her grief by sharing a vulnerable part of herself. And when this moment comes in the story, it’s truly one of the most beautifully crafted scenes on film, animated or otherwise. The teensy bit of inspiration Belle lifts from Beauty and the Beast is enough to evoke familiar imagery, but not enough where it becomes a rehashing, or overtakes the central focus of the story. Hosoda engages with many trains of thought and never resorts to the classic fairytale as a fallback. Instead, his search for something authentic and truthful in the shimmering, pixelated world of U carries this film down the road of goodwill and how such a thing may be amplified in a digital age to reach those in need from afar. Belle is a dazzling achievement with as much heart as finesse for the craft of animation. The trajectory of this story packs an emotional punch to the gut, reminding the power of human emotion in a world of ever-increasing technological advances designed to chip away at what makes us human in the first place.  Olivia Colman and Dakota Johnson in The Lost Daughter (2021) It’s rare to see portrayals of women onscreen that are not glossed cookie-cutter versions of themselves. In Maggie Gyllenhaal’s directorial debut feature, The Lost Daughter, there is no one way to be. There are no shallow aesthetics or inhibitions in that regard. Her film lives inside the mess of conflicting human emotions. Based on Elena Ferrante’s novel of the same name, The Lost Daughter challenges what a woman should look like, how a woman should behave, and the feelings that are eternally tied between mothers and their children. It’s one hell of a story, a deeply sensual and perceptive exploration of motherhood from the unconventional lens of a meditative filmmaker. Deliberately straying from the many glowing depictions of motherhood often painted onscreen, The Lost Daughter voices the messiness; the ugliness, the crushing responsibilities, the flirtation with personal gratification. Characters have the urge to let themselves be swept far away into the sensation of solitary liberty. Gyllenhaal has such rich material to work with and is completely unafraid to play in the realm of uncomfortableness. The Lost Daughter is truly haunting, every bit nightmarish as it is dreamy.
With a cast that includes such talent as Olivia Colman, Jessie Buckley, and Dakota Johnson, not a moment on screen is deprived of compelling action. Colman delivers her most fascinating performance to date, saying a lot considering the impressive work she’s amassed for years. Colman plays the protagonist Leda, a revered English professor and mother to two children. Whilst on a beach holiday in Greece, she anticipates peace and quiet. Soon enough, Leda’s seaside paradise takes a dark turn after encountering a large brazen family, whose presence provoke secrets from her complicated past to wash ashore. Gyllenhaal’s exploratory direction captures the weight of feelings left unspoken for so long, that one seemingly inconsequential event can unravel threads in the protagonist’s mind. The family caught in the troubles of Leda’s memories include young mother Nina (Dakota Johnson), trying to relax while caring for her daughter Elena (Athena Martin Anderson). After Elena gets lost temporarily, the experience of finding her becomes a tipping point for Leda. Her early years as a mother unravel through flashbacks, starring a brilliant Jessie Buckley as the younger version of the character. The Lost Daughter transitions often from past to present, shedding light on the psychological journey the film goes on from Leda’s perspective. The flashbacks focus on a harried Leda, overwhelmed with motherhood and on the verge of a breaking point. Buckley’s remarkable performance as young Leda makes connecting the dots to present-day Leda all the more commanding. Combined with Colman’s performance, it makes for an intriguing character study with two actors at the top of their game exploring an unsettled psychological confrontation. With both time periods telling an equally interesting story of repressive imperfect emotion, the film is a triumph from start to finish. Besides Leda’s inner voice, there’s also her present-day interactions with Nina that further lift the story to a compelling meditation. Johnson has a strong screen presence, and her playing Nina is a fantastic example of casting done well. Nina’s presence in the film takes ahold of Leda so unexpectedly, and Johnson’s mystique as an actor spills into their exchanges making them all the more thought-provoking. You never really know where their interactions will go next, and by the end, there’s plenty of pondering where the characters will go from there. There's a recurring image in the film of peeling fruit like a snake. It's a source of nostalgia for Leda, and her daughters as shown in flashbacks, to peel fruit in its entirety without ever breaking into pieces. Gyllenhaal makes use of this imagery just enough without it ever feeling like a forced kind of symbol. It's a great little detail that adds more to ponder on. Gyllenhaal’s direction has such a dreamy rhythm, with lingering closeups and windswept trailing of characters from one moment to the next. She brings an unflinching approach to ambiguousness and unpleasantness. There’s a strong sense that, at any given moment in this ode to motherhood and womanhood, it could all be a terrible nightmare the protagonist will one day wake up from. That one day, the peel will break into pieces, the continuity will end. So much is at stake through the performances; Colman, Buckley, and Johnson each bringing their characters to life in such genuinely intimate ways, utilizing the strengths of acting through physicality. Colman and Buckley in particular are an interesting mirror to one another, both as well a reflection of wonderful and sensory direction. The Lost Daughter is a vulnerable, powerful debut by Maggie Gyllenhaal, whose adaptation of Ferrante’s novel is among the most thought-provoking book-to-screen ventures. The Lost Daughter arrives December 31 exclusively on Netflix. |
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