United States
In classical art forms each specific field has one or two areas that have a more prestigious status. In dance it is ballet, and in the orchestra it is the violin. These two have a reputation of being highly difficult to master, being rigid in both technique and discipline.
A subtle yet intriguing glimpse at family built on celebrity, One More Time spins a much darker story into a lighthearted drama. Indie earmarks set the tone of the film, as the dialogue-driven character study deftly navigates each family member’s individual flaws while also allowing for a lasting bond with the audience. Pepper in the oddball charm of its male star alongside a borderline Gen X female protagonist, and the foundation is set for a well-crafted, yet easy-on-the-emotions watch.
When people ask me who my favourite superhero is I always wonder at what makes a good one. Is it the good guy? Is it the guy out for revenge?
The subheading on one of the posters for My Big Fat Greek Wedding 2 claims that “People change. Greeks don’t.” Yet, what made the original film so dynamic and engaging is exactly that:
Michael Thelin’s directorial feature debut is perhaps most effective in its earliest stages. When we are first introduced to a sleepy suburban neighbourhood, it is already clear that something is amiss. When we witness the kidnapping of a young woman on her way to babysit, we begin to get some idea of what is in store.
Ryan and Amy are sitting nervously on a sofa in a nondescript room. A doctor addresses them, “Mr and Mrs Green, I’m sorry, it’s not good news”. The doctor continues to tell them that their one year old son’s chemotherapy has not worked.
Perhaps the most impressive aspect of Robert Eggers’ The Witch is its unwillingness to pander to its audience. Though people may have been expecting a semi-typical supernatural horror film (complete with jumpscares and excessive gore), what they receive instead is something much more disturbing in its implications. Set in Puritan era New England, The Witch is an atmospherically driven, religion-coated film that is, at times, both beautiful and terrifying.
Stand By Me is one of my favorite movies, I could watch it a hundred times without getting bored. I have watched it in different phases of my life, through various perspectives. Every time I watch it, I learn a new detail that I had not noticed the before.
As a director, Atom Egoyan has increasingly shifted away from the emotionally raw content of his beloved 1997 film The Sweet Hereafter in favour of seedier, pulpier material that film suggested he had emotionally matured away from. Egoyan’s love of trash cinema informed his earlier work, but after showcasing his potential to make a drama film divorced of genre pretensions, the fact he is still preoccupied with putting an unwarranted arthouse inflection on such material feels like wasted potential. How to make trash cinema out of human tragedy without being offensive He manages to attract the attention of A-list casts and find his way back into the official selection of the Cannes official selection with most releases, purely on the strength of his earlier work, not out of a desire to honour his current sub-De Palma mindset.
The old is boring and the new is exciting; right or wrong, that’s just how our brains our wired. So when something is in danger of becoming not just old but extinct, it’s only natural that they would seek to extend their longevity by latching onto something new. We could be witnessing an extinction event for one such aging institution, the daily newspaper.
For a horror sub-genre that is frequently criticised for misogynist overtones, it is surprising how many gothic filmmakers haven’t combined the LGBT themes inherent in horror with the rampant violence of slasher film more frequently before. You’re Killing Me is a horror-comedy that puts the emphasis on the comedic elements, its many detours into slasher film never feeling either shocking or as amusing as the film around them. But it is unique for a film in this sub-genre to remove any subtext about societal fears among gay people in contemporary society and just make a straightforward horror-comedy with no deeper thematic resonance.
Even though he hails from a nation renowned for its take on exploitation cinema, director John Hillcoat has repeatedly proven himself to be far more interested with the archetypes of American genre films. His international breakthrough feature, 2006’s The Proposition, was the perfect marriage of the sensibilities of Ozploitation and the most hard-boiled Westerns; for a country with no major cinema heritage, it suggested Hillcoat was a director who could put his nation firmly on the world cinema map. Instead of continuing this distinctive subversion of genre with his subsequent films, Hillcoat has become increasingly formulaic.
The Coen Brothers have managed to put their own twist on noir, the buddy comedy, crime drama, romantic comedies, westerns, and spy films. They are clearly film historians, so they want to show their love of movies by tackling classic genre films that cannot be sold to modern audiences. How did they manage to do this?
It’s impossible to discuss Lamb without being honest about its premise, so let’s start by ripping off the Band-Aid, shall we? Lamb is about a middle-aged man kidnapping an eleven-year old girl. It’s neither exploitative nor overtly horrifying, but its central relationship is inescapably unsettling.
“I heard once somebody describing Zionism as a person escaping a burning building jumping out of the window and falling on somebody else’s head.” – Orly Noy, Israeli peace activist Colliding Dreams is a historical documentary exploring the history and ideas of Zionism, a nationalist movement of the Jewish community. The documentary examines Zionism in relation to the Jewish-Israeli occupation, a highly politically and religiously charged conflict between the Zionists and the Palestinians that continues until this day.