WILDCAT -- Ethan and Maya Hawke Team Up for a Confusing, Unique Telling of Flannery O’Connor’s Life5/3/2024 Review by Cole Groth Ethan Hawke’s directorial efforts haven’t landed him much attention so far. Although his latest production, Wildcat, won’t change this, something is interesting about how daring he is as a director. His fourth narrative feature tells the story of Flannery O’Connor (Maya Hawke), the short-lived American novelist who held a lifelong struggle with illness. Instead of taking the typical biopic route, this film tells us her life story through a series of disjointed vignettes from her short stories. It’s an ambitious effort but one that’s ultimately a bit too confusing to reach the public eye — much like O’Connor herself. Wildcat takes place in 1950, when 24-year-old O’Connor visits her racist mother, Regina (Laura Linney). On her visit, she copes with her growing struggle with Lupus and her battle with publishing her first novel. To escape the oppressive world around her, she frequently takes us into her mind through some of her 31 published short stories. Each vignette brings together a variety of styles and tones, bringing us through on her adventure towards publishing as she pitches her novel around. One of the clear things about this project is that, without Ethan Hawke behind it, this wouldn’t exist. The large cast of actors like Linney, Steve Zahn, Cooper Hoffman, Vincent D’Onofrio, and Liam Neeson makes it clear that a few favors were called in. As far as the acting goes, this is an enjoyable time. Hawke allows all of the actors to embrace a variety of heartfelt, funny, or intense scenes. Each of the vignettes, while tonally confusing, is a pretty good showcase for the large cast. There’s a scene about thirty minutes in which O’Connor’s mom complains about race relations and how slavery was actually a decent thing. At that moment, Jesus walks through the doors of the hospital they’re in and proclaims to her that there are just two spots left to get into heaven, and the only way she could get in is if she became a Black woman or as a white trash woman instead. She pleads with him to stay as herself, a respectable aristocratic white woman. Sounds a little insane, right? That’s about what you can expect from this biopic. It’s plenty of fun and tells an exciting story of her life, but for those familiar with the author or looking for a standard drama, this won’t be the film for you.
The core problem here is that Hawke looks at everything through the silly lens of a modern Hollywood guy. Racism is bad, of course, and he wants us to know that, if he were alive in the ‘60s, he would be the guy telling people that calling Black people inferior wasn’t very nice! It’s the type of screenwriting coming from a guy who doesn’t seem to know much about the past or is desperate to stay in touch with the youth. He almost loses O’Connor in the mix of things by throwing in strange political views that aren’t progressive enough to be daring but also too weak to feel realistic. There’s plenty of cool production and fun directorial style to find in Ethan Hawke’s latest feature, and while Maya Hawke is incredible as O’Connor, it’s clear that her dad has some ways to go before making a film ready for the mainstream. This is simply not a comprehensible enough movie at this stage. It’s weird and daring but also too rough around the edges. Perhaps that’s part of the character, but the viewing experience is ultimately much tougher because of it, and for someone unfamiliar with O’Connor already, I feel like I know her even less after Wildcat. Wildcat releases in theaters starting May 3. Rating: 2.5/5
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Review by Daniel Lima As much as I love science fiction, I can’t help but wonder to myself when the last truly visionary work in the genre was. That isn’t to say we are bereft of any good examples these days, but it feels like there has not been a work like Blade Runner or The Matrix — totemic works that introduced new ideas to the popular consciousness and changed the way we imagined the future — in quite some time. Mars Express is not another game-changer, indebted as it is to well-worn themes and tropes, but it is still a gorgeous package with an interesting world and an engrossing mystery. Set 100 years in the future, humanity has colonized Mars and is supported by a large population of robots — shackled AIs bound into servitude. A pair of private detectives, one human and one robot, go on a routine missing persons job and find themselves embroiled in a much larger conspiracy. Murder, a shady corporation, and a nascent liberation movement threaten to upend the society that has been built on the red planet. This is cyberpunk in a grounded, relatively hard sci-fi world, and it follows many of the conventions set by past works in the genre. Colonists live in huge domes with screens that mimic blue skies; activists jailbreak AI to unlock unrestricted sentience; digital backups for the recently deceased, given a second life in robotic bodies. Similarly, ideas about what it means to be human and the path humanity chooses to take as it pushes further into the universe are part and parcel of this particular subgenre. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but there’s not much novelty to this particular vision of the future. Where the film does succeed is in bringing that vision to life. This is a low-budget animated film, mostly 2D (3D is used for the backgrounds, some characters, and environmental objects), so there is a stiffness to much of the movement, and many of the shorts feel static. The art design, however, goes a long way in giving Mars a distinct feel, clean and corporatized, with hints of older technologies still holding on as the bleeding edge is rolled out. Concepts like organic computers overtaking digital counterparts might not be fresh, but seeing these eerie bioengineered organisms floating in jars is still fascinating.
The way information about this world is doled is one of the greatest strengths of Mars Express. This colony has a long and storied history, with a clear set of pervading beliefs and attitudes. Those details are only ever learned in passing, through dialogue and character beats that don’t take the tenor of exposition. The robot detective has a tenuous relationship with humans that reflects his place in society; mentions of a past military incident involving robots explain the rise of bioware; shunned practices exploit the possibility of copying one’s mind into another body. Worldbuilding like this, seamless and natural, is what separates truly involving speculative fiction from careless dreck. Admittedly, these details are a bit more memorable than the actual story. The investigation does have propulsive energy, and the budgetary limitations of an animated film obviously forced the creative team to consider every single frame very carefully to its benefit. The characters are all well-defined, from the leads all the way down to those that only get a line or two. The ultimate conclusion is surprisingly thoughtful and decidedly not designed to sate a general audience, which makes it all the more affecting. Yet, when thinking about what makes the movie work, the scope and amount of detail spring to mind far quicker than the narrative details themselves. As impressive as Mars Express is, the one thing holding it back is how indebted it is to what came before. At a time when artificial intelligence is now a hot-button issue set to disrupt the current order of things — perhaps for the worst — it is a bit of a missed opportunity for a film like this to reflect past iterations of what the future may bring. That might not detract from what the film offers, but it limits its horizons. Mars Express is now in theaters. Rating: 4/5 Review by Daniel Lima Another year, another installment of The Roundup. Beginning in 2017 with The Outlaws, the series sees the hulking Ma Dong-seok as a Seoul detective who is as quick to punch through red tape and police regulations as he is an army of criminal scum. The latest entry, The Roundup: Punishment, does little to change a formula already growing stale, but watching its star go to work is its own singular joy. Summarizing the plot feels like a fool's errand, not because it's overly complex but because it is so similar to the previous entries that a description feels unnecessary. A new criminal element pops up in Seoul, with some kind of overseas connection (these films are the xenophobic mirror to Hong Kong's In the Line of Duty series). Ma Dong-seok quickly becomes embroiled in taking down this syndicate, utilizing his extensive underworld connections and brash, bull-in-a-china-shop approach to policing to get results. As the dastardly villains do as they please, he closes in, usually butting heads with his chain of command along the way. Eventually, there is a climactic confrontation, and our rugged hero outboxes the psychopaths he's chasing. Lather, rinse, repeat. Obviously, the details change, but that basic structure seems set in stone. There are worse things for a crime-actioner to be than predictable, but four entries in the plot machinations of this online gambling conspiracy feel cursory, and the antagonists never feel threatening, mainly because of how inevitable their downfall will be. To make matters worse, their schemes and crimes remain largely disconnected from the efforts of the team of detectives to catch them, meaning it takes some time to develop a real personal stake for the cops to apprehend their quarry. Sometimes, it feels like you're watching a Godfrey Ho film, two totally different movies stitched together. Normally, watching the cops go about their procedural business is fun in and of itself. Here, it feels similarly weightless and perfunctory. At first, it seems like there will be much made of the brutish lead detective's inability to punch out cybercrime, but some techs are added to the team to solve that, none of whom receive any substantial characterization. They also feel like far less of a team in this entry, with very little of the banter that filled the previous films. The one highlight is Park Ji-hwan's petty thief, a fixture in this series who always provides some flamboyant comic relief, and he's not even a cop (one of the few gags relies on that).
Despite all this, it's impossible to be hard on this movie when there is so much time spent watching Ma Dong-seok punch people. The man is a former boxer. He's big and brawny, and just about every movie he is in takes full advantage of those facts. This one, in particular, is liberally peppered with scuffles that see him throwing haymakers that send his adversaries literally flying through the air. The action design isn't particularly impressive, but the man's sharp movements, the reactions of the stuntmen taking the hits, and even the sound design go a long way in selling the power of his blows. It's truly the movie's highlight and one of the selling points of the entire franchise. That said, The Roundup: Punishment does feel like the series is starting to lose steam. Perhaps the creative team behind it is perfectly willing to apply this formula to foreign criminals from every country in the world, but a change would be welcome if only to ensure some kind of emotional investment in what actually happens. If nothing else, I'll always come back to watch this guy hit things. The Roundup: Punishment is now in theaters. Rating: 3/5 Review by Jonathan Berk Is there a bigger moment in a high schooler's life than attending prom? It's one of those milestones that can really influence a person's post-high school life. Or, at least, filmmakers seem to think so, as it's the setting for so many movies. While it's impossible not to think of dozens of movies related to the big dance, director Kim O. Nguyen's film Prom Dates finds some new ground to tap into. Young Jess and Hannah are hiding under a table at a prom and decide to make a pact that their senior prom will be legendary. The film jumps ahead to the day before their big dance, and everything is looking perfect. That is, of course, until their dates cancel on them. Now, Hannah (Julia Lester) and Jess (Antonia Gentry) have 24 hours to find replacements… but it seems the whole world may be against them. The comedy in this film is real, in large part thanks to Lester and her clear comedic chops. Several moments will elicit bursts of laughter, and many of them center around her. That's not to take anything away from Gentry, who also has some funny moments — it's just that Hannah finds herself in more extreme situations that are inherently comedic. This is established pretty early on when Lester is at the assembly waiting for Gentry to arrive and starts to choke on her gum. The coughing fit leads to several rapid-fire jokes that should inform audiences right away if they will enjoy this movie's sense of humor. Naturally, it wouldn't be a high school movie without a little bit of drama. While the cast is relatively small and most of the drama slightly constrained, some moments hit big highs. Hannah's boyfriend, Greg (Kenny Ridwan), is so in love with Hannah that he's unaware of how needy he is. Their breakup not only leads to some hilarity but also to some genuine, heartfelt moments. The movie finds a good balance with a good mix of these, for the most part.
The one downside of coming to a tried and true genre like the coming-of-age film is falling victim to the formula. While Nguyen's film goes to some places that feel wholly original, quite a few moments are just too predictable. It's not even an issue for things to feel familiar if they fit into the nature of the story; however, there are beats that are definitely common in this genre that simply feel out of place with the characters in this particular film, ultimately dinging the overall success of the movie. Luckily, the elements that feel out of place don't ruin the movie as a whole. The humor is just too strong and the performances too good for this to be overlooked. Fans of films like Booksmart, The Edge of Seventeen, Superbad, and even American Pie will surely find something to love in Prom Dates. There is a good chance the two leads will be starring in bigger projects in the near future. Prom Dates will be streaming on Hulu on May 3. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Daniel Lima “You can’t do comedy anymore because of woke” is a conviction that comedian Jerry Seinfeld has proclaimed for years now. In spite of his own squeaky-clean material, he firmly believes that comedy is an art and craft that should be separated from the world around it, offering no political perspective, social commentary, or even insight into the artist’s personality or worldview. It’s no surprise, then, that his feature directorial debut Unfrosted is so detached from reality that it’s impossible to see what exactly animated him to spearhead the project. What might be surprising is how poisonously, dangerously unfunny it is. The film is the newest entry in the current infernal trend of corporate IP cinema, movies about the invention of specific consumer products. The product in question here is the Pop-Tart, produced by Kellogg’s in the 1960s. Unlike previous examples that insist on the earth-shattering importance of a pair of basketball shoes or a children’s video game, Seinfeld recognizes that there is nothing special about a breakfast pastry. Instead, the film is a broad, absurdist take on this kind of film: colorful and ornate ‘60s sets and costumes, a vast array of goofy characters played by a murderer’s row of comedians and celebrities, and a dense aura of self-parody and irony. On paper, this is the best possible way to approach the material. Seinfeld’s observation brand of comedy has always been laser-focused on pointing out the absurdity of everyday mundanity (something he has only a tenuous grasp of, given his ultra-rich lifestyle), and a silly movie about a sugary breakfast food seems perfect fodder. There’s plenty of humor to be mined, either by parodying the self-serious version of this kind of film or simply using the skeleton of the familiar narrative structure to allow for every gag the artist can think of. Unfortunately, it becomes immediately apparent that the seventy-year-old man who insists that comedy is an unchanging entity separate from worldly concerns has an incredibly limited imagination. The one-liners are all tired, hack material that recalls Seinfeld’s own stand-up, a relic even forty years ago: “Who’s On First?” style riffs, playground humor about the names of different cereals, and only the most basic pop culture references. The genuinely impressive production design is undermined by high key lighting that gives everything a cheap look, and the scant attempts at visual humor are just as lame and tired. Most egregious is the utter lack of comic rhythm and timing, either stifling the jokes or leaving them to die on the vine. All this is in service to the one big joke underpinning every moment of Unfrosted: “Isn’t it stupid to make a movie like this?” This kind of anti-comedy isn’t inherently bad, with both alt-comics and more mainstream comedians utilizing offbeat timing and hackneyed material to great ironic effect. Where Seinfeld goes wrong is he has nowhere to go except to point out how dumb the enterprise is. This isn’t an explicit parody of the current IP movie trend; there’s a lack of the cartoonishly broad ingenuity of Zucker-Abrahams-Zucker, and the specificity of a Coen Brothers farce is absent. The ensemble is good, but they can only do so much with finger-on-the-pulse jokes about JFK having extramarital affairs (with the exception of Hugh Grant, who shines). Ultimately, the only thing the film has to offer is the acknowledgment that it isn’t good. Which, paradoxically, reveals that Seinfeld truly thinks that this is enough to pass muster with a contemporary audience. The result is a work that is both absurdly self-assured and woefully undercooked. As resistant as the man is to comedy that professes a set of beliefs or directly contends with the comic’s inner self, it’s the fleeting moments of Unfrosted where Seinfeld’s own reactionary impulses shine through that it shows any signs of life. Offhand jokes at the expense of the working class, unions, and socialism manage to sneak through his studiously calculated apolitical veneer in keeping with his frequent criticism of the American left and political correctness. This ambient ideology is never given any weight. Still, when a worker’s strike turns into a Jan. 6-style assault on Kellogg’s headquarters, it doesn’t take much to read between the lines: to Seinfeld, low-wage workers asking for a raise and right-wing extremists storming the Capital are equally silly. As disagreeable as this outlook might be, it does give the film a verve that it otherwise lacks.
Seinfeld's central misunderstanding of art is that it is not a mere mechanism. To him, comedy is a feat of engineering, taking the raw materials that the lives we lead afford us and molding them into something that provokes a certain response; any message or statement is simply a byproduct of that process. While craft is certainly important, art is, in fact, a form of self-expression and communication, and the ideal artist actually has something to say, either about the world or themselves. Cultivating a singular voice and perspective is what marks a true artist and, in the case of comedy, what separates the truly funny from the hacks. This is why Unfrosted is a failure. For all the work done to bring this vision to life, it is shockingly hollow and devoid of any sense of purpose. Even if it were a technically accomplished film that got all the fundamentals right, it would be every bit as soulless and out of touch as the man behind it. It just so happens that it’s also not funny. Unfrosted releases on Netflix May 3. Rating: 1.5/5
Review by Sean Boelman
David E. Kelley has become one of today's most prolific television creators, creating some of the best mysteries, legal dramas, and satires that have been on TV and streaming for the past three decades. His latest project, A Man in Full, combines all those genres and more, allowing it to be a fun, provocative satire.
Based on the novel by Tom Wolfe, the series follows an Atlanta real estate mogul who must fight to protect his empire from collapse as he faces sudden bankruptcy and a series of opponents who seek to take advantage of his wake. As far as business satires go, it’s refreshing to see something so accessible as A Man in Full, which is far less interested in the logistics of what’s happening than their implications on the characters and broader society. The best part of A Man in Full, without any question, is its dialogue. David E. Kelley has created some of the most Mamet-esque dialogue that isn’t written by Mamet himself — with the series having the same foul-mouth, quick-tongued quality. This lends itself incredibly well to a satire that’s both entertaining and provocative. Thanks to the quick pacing of the dialogue, the show breezes by. It’s only six episodes, each around 45 minutes long, making it much shorter than the average prestige miniseries. However, another part of what makes this series stand out is its many subplots — including a court case involving a wrongly imprisoned Black man, a Black mayoral candidate’s campaign, and a hostile takeover of the protagonist’s empire.
Yet, while the show bites off a lot in terms of story, it feels impressively rich in a thematic sense. Part of this may be as much thanks to the work of the directors, Regina King and Thomas Schlamme, as it is to the work of Kelley as a writer. For a show by a white screenwriter, A Man in Full does a surprisingly good job of exploring the topic of race.
Similar to other satires set in the upper echelons of American capitalism, A Man in Full thrives by giving audiences characters they will love to hate. There are definitely some sympathetic characters, especially in the wrongful arrest/police brutality subplot. Still, much of the audience’s connection to this show will be from laughing at just how pitiable the protagonist’s fall from grace is. The show is led by an incredible Jeff Daniels, whose performance perfectly blends his dramatic capabilities and comedic sensibilities. He eats up every moment of over-the-top dialogue but also thrives when the role asks him to be more vulnerable. Daniels is surrounded by a very strong supporting cast that holds their own against the central showman, including Bill Camp, Diane Lane, Tom Pelphrey, William Jackson Harper, Lucy Liu, and an astounding Aml Ameen. A Man in Full is an incredible miniseries thanks to its excellent writing, phenomenal cast, and strong direction. Those looking for a foul-mouthed, quick-witted satire that goes down easy but is still incredibly thoughtful will undoubtedly get their fill with David E. Kelley’s latest series — another highlight on the talented screenwriter’s already impressive filmography. A Man in Full is now streaming on Netflix. Rating: 4.5/5 Review by Joseph Fayed Reality television has become a cultural phenomenon over the past three decades. The television industry has heavily relied on its success, traced back to some of its pioneering programs of the '90s. One aspect that has never changed since its inception is its critics, who feel it is ethically wrong. The Contestant profiles one participant from an infamous Japanese reality series and revisits the exploitative nature of the program but doesn't offer much insight into the growing television genre or its subject beyond that. Tomoaki Hamatsu, better known as Nasubi (Japanese for "eggplant"), appeared on Susunu! Denpa Shonen from 1998 to 1999. For 15 months, he lived alone in an apartment, completely naked and cut off from communication with the outside world. His day-to-day tasks consisted of entering magazine sweepstakes and surviving off the prizes inside them should he win any. The goal for Nasubi was to win one million yen in prizes. Nasubi had no idea the show was airing, and while starving himself and slowly losing his sanity, millions tuned in to watch it unfold weekly. The documentary asks Nasubi how one copes with that and lives a fulfilling life afterward. The documentary features interviews from both Nasubi and the series producer Toshio Tscuhiya. Featuring both of them is essential because it allows us to understand the creative process behind the scenes and how one could pull it off. Nasubi retells his story in a rather chilling tone, and there is not too much he feels the need to reflect on kindly about that period. On the other hand, Toshio discusses his role simply as a job with which he had no qualms. Neither set of interviews was edited to rival the other. Both men explain their experiences with the program without having to answer hardball questions toward them. The interviews don't feel they are victim-blaming Nasubi for being a willing participant, even if he didn't really know the full extent of the show, nor are they seeking answers for Toshio being in charge of the whole operation. They are mindful of Nasubi's own misunderstandings, while Toshio addresses from the start that he was there to create entertainment. Make of that what you will, but participant and producer deliver on their own and create the best moments of the documentary when it's just one of them speaking. The latter half of the film is where the story prematurely ends. When the program finally ends, and Nasubi is back to facing reality, we don't get to learn much of what happens next. The ending, meant to be inspirational, was filmed years after the initial events and feels more like an epilogue than a conclusion. All the talk about reality television, specifically Nasubi's condition, being exploited by different experts in talking heads gets ignored in favor of Nasubi's passion for charitable causes. But nothing correlates with the last hour we witnessed. Nasubi's road to recovery sounded like an eventful one, so seeing that fluff piece of an ending cuts down on the focus of the harm from the program.
Some of the editing and production choices were strange. One of the darkest moments is when Nasubi explains how he thoughts of death towards the end of his 15 months in isolation. His answer, full of raw emotion, could have been shown as she speaks in the present day. Instead, he gives a voiceover as more footage of him roaming around the apartment naked is shown. It takes away from the seriousness of the subject, and by that point, we had already seen enough highlights of the program, so it feels extra icky. Fred Armisen narrates several portions of the original Japanese announcers in English for some reason. While that doesn't hinder the documentary, what we do hear of his voice is like something out of a ride at Disney. Just give us subtitles; they're not that hard to read. The Contestant will remind you how the reality show that inspired this documentary gained its infamy. In many ways, it was a predecessor to international franchises like Big Brother. But if you ever watched reality television before, you will probably have strong opinions going into this. What is discussed here won't necessarily shock everyone in 2024 because the past few decades have already shown us all the good, bad, and ugly that genre has to offer. Nasubi's 15 minutes of fame are heavily reexamined, but what we ignore is the healing process that was needed after the cameras stopped rolling. But I suppose that's "too real" for reality television standards. The Contestant streams on Hulu beginning May 2. Rating: 2/5
Review by Sean Boelman
Michael Showalter has brought us some great, unorthodox romantic comedies, including The Big Sick and Hello, My Name Is Doris. While his latest, The Idea of You, is much more conventional and leans on a lot of cheesy tropes, it also takes advantage of its stars’ charisma and talent to deliver a genuinely lovable entry into the genre.
Based on the novel by Robinne Lee, the film follows a 40-year-old single mother who forms an unlikely relationship with the 24-year-old lead singer of one of the most popular boy bands around. If this sounds cheesy and trashy — like A Star Is Born for the Wattpad generation — it’s because it kind of is. However, if you’re willing to enjoy it for what it is, it’s a diverting hour and 55 minutes. The movie attempts to dive into some of the deeper complexities of its age gap relationship, such as the double standard that is applied to men and women dating people who are younger than them. However, it takes a while for the romance storyline to really reach full speed, and by that time, it ends up feeling rushed to explore all of its themes in the back hour. Still, the characters are so incredibly likable that it’s hard not to get swept away by The Idea of You’s romance. It’s refreshing to see a film told from the perspective of a perspective that’s not too often showcased as a romantic lead in movies like this — even if the actress cast in the lead role is one of the few that Hollywood would still let carry a movie like this.
On the one hand, Anne Hathaway gives one of her best performances in years in this role, bringing a ton of charm and humor to the character but also elevating it with a nuance that many other actors would not have explored. At the same time, the movie seems to treat her as if she’s “plain” — not one of the highest-paid actresses of all time who is known for her beauty. This does make the third act’s conflict somewhat hard to believe.
As for Nicholas Galitzine, one of the brightest rising stars in the film industry today, he yet again proves that he has what it takes to be a movie star. Although he’s quickly becoming typecast as the attractive guy who seems dumb on the surface but has a deeper, more sensitive side, he’s good at doing it, so why should he stop? For the most part, the movie is shot in a pretty straightforward romantic comedy style, with the exception of a few editing flourishes that feel ripped out of classic music movies like Micahel Wadleigh’s Woodstock. However, the real star of the execution is its original music, as there are more than a few catchy original songs for the boy band of the film. The Idea of You is a trashy romantic comedy, but as far as the genre goes, you could do a lot worse than this. Thanks to its leads’ genuinely good performances and a storyline that’s consistently charming — even if it’s not as deep as it seems to think it is — this will definitely find life among audiences both young and old. The Idea of You is now in theaters and streams on Prime beginning May 2. Rating: 3.5/5 Review by Daniel Lima In the West, the parameters of acceptable discourse on the subject of Israel and Palestine have been limited to simply acknowledging that there is a cycle of tumult and violence. The perception among the general public has been that interrogating why that is far too complicated, that assigning blame is a fruitless effort, and as a consequence, any solutions are far out of reach. After the past seven months of wanton destruction and killing by the Israeli government against the people of Palestine, that narrative is on the wane, and a situation that had been portrayed as prohibitively complex for decades has undergone a massive reevaluation. It is the perfect time for a film like Lyd, a work that draws a clear line between the sins of the past and our present reality and vociferously argues why contextualizing the present within that broader history is crucial in determining the future. Co-directed by American Sarah Ema Friedland and Palestinian Rami Younis, the film makes no qualms about its perspective: the colonization of the Levant in the aftermath of World War I by Western powers and the Israeli annexation of the city of Lyd represents an original sin that created deep wounds that have never and cannot ever heal so long as the subjugation of the Arab population remains the status quo. To that end, the film explores the city’s history via talking heads, narration, archival footage, and even animation, painting a portrait of a people under occupation and a world that could be different. The firsthand accounts of the Nakba, the 1948 ethnic cleansing of Palestinian families from land seized by Israel that saw thousands dead and hundreds of thousands expelled from their homes, are breathtaking. One man still living in the city recalls being forced as a child by the occupying forces to bury the bodies of those they killed, some so disfigured they had melted; a young man who has spent his entire life in a refugee camp mentions that his grandmother’s house is still standing and occupied by settlers, yet he is not even allowed to enter the city. Most chilling is a collection of testimonies from Israeli veterans, compiled by the IDF itself, where they remember what it was like shooting into building filled with men, women and children. One man, in particular, visibly disturbed, speaks of looking into the eyes of defenseless Palestinians and seeing himself as a murderer through them and how he was to them what generations of oppressors were to his people. Off-screen, someone derisively asks, “What, are you a pacifist now?” as if that is a bad thing. The man clams up. Taken with the contemporary Palestinian accounts, these interviews establish that the origins of this conflict are not ancient, not incomprehensible. They are the direct result of people and are still within living memory, so this conflict is not the hopeless quagmire we are so often told it is. There are some attempts to show what life is like for Arab Israelis, the fallout of the Nakba that continues to rain down. While these slice-of-life scenes serve that purpose, displaying in stark relief what life under oppression is like, there is a certain artifice that is hard to shake. Some moments, like the camera gliding behind a man as he walks through the streets of his ad hoc community, feel perfectly lived in. Then there’s a shot-reverse shot scene of him ordering food at a restaurant, and suddenly, the film has adopted narrative cinematic language in a way that makes it feel inorganic. Nowhere is this more pronounced than in the classroom scene, where a group of children are asked about their identity. Their teacher is brought to tears by the ignorance they display about what it means to be Palestinian, and it is indeed shocking to hear their responses, but that shock can only go so far when the scene is so composed.
That being said, the documentary does have several more fanciful elements that work to varying degrees. The narration is given from the perspective of the city itself, a flourish that lends the film a certain texture but little else. More notable are the animated sequences, glimpses into an alternate world in which the Levant was never colonized by Europe. Admittedly, the rosy vision of a pluralistic society that knows only peace can be seen as a bit fanciful, particularly considering the film does reference religious tensions before the First World war. As is made clear by the finale, however, it is by imagining what could have been and what could be that calcified ideas of how the world is can be shattered. That is the power of Lyd: it shatters assumptions that many may have, until very recently, held unchallenged about the lives of Palestinians under Israeli occupation. The image it presents is filled with pain and suffering, of people forced to see what was taken from them as a daily form of torture, yet it does not simply revel in that suffering. Instead, it diagnoses the root cause, puts a face to the perpetrators, and, in doing so, allows the possibility for justice and a better tomorrow. Lyd arrives in theaters April 26. Rating: 4/5 Review by Camden Ferrell What do you get when you cross Before Sunrise with an insomniac and troubled New Yorker lead? You get Pratfall, writer/director Alex Andre’s feature debut that premiered at the 2023 Brooklyn Film Festival. A perfect example of the power of low-budget filmmaking, Andre paints a portrait of New York through the eyes of his lead characters in an engaging and simple manner even if it can sometimes lose its way on its journey. Eli is an unsettled man in New York grappling with his own complicated problems both internal and external. His life has become filled with insomnia, conversations with himself, and interacting with the rest of the city. One day, he crosses paths with Joelle, a French tourist. Together, they go on an odyssey through New York City where Eli paints a picture of the city with his embellished words as Joelle joins along for the ride. This story of two people crossing paths for a memorable night of conversation and exploration has been done before, but it also doesn’t make it any less compelling as a premise. At times, it’s hard to distinguish whether dialogue is scripted or improvised, which is a testament to Andre’s ability to write such naturally flowing dialogue. It never feels forced or unnaturally philosophical, a trait that most movies of this kind are guilty of for better or worse. Sometimes the dialogue meanders more than it should, but this also contributes to the heightened realism of the film, so it’s not necessarily a net negative. There are some narrative beats that definitely feel out of place throughout the movie and take the audience out of the small-scale connection it is so good at achieving from the start. This movie is led by Joshua Burge and Chloé Groussard as Eli and Joelle. Burge takes on the lion’s share of the dialogue and does well with it, conveying the more subtle troubling aspects of Eli without becoming a caricature. It’s a unique character to play especially as a lead, but Burge is able to handle the character well enough to be distinct without undermining the realistic nature of the film. While Groussard is given less dialogue, she plays perfectly off of Burge. Her naïve optimism of New York’s urban landscape works very well with her character, and she really gives the character more personality and agency than she would have otherwise gotten. It really does feel like Eli is a part of Joelle’s story by the end, not the other way around, and this is mostly due to how Groussard carries herself as a character.
One of the aspects I admire most about this film is how it is so effective without breaking the bank. Andre shot this movie himself (on what feels like a low budget camera), and it practically uses handheld, wide-angle shots exclusively, and it’s a perfect fit for the type of story he’s trying to tell. It’s like a combination of Terrence Malick’s signature contemporary look and the more frantic and free-flowing feel of the Dogme 95 and mumblecore movements of filmmaking. Andre’s debut is impressive, and I’ll definitely be citing it as a prime example of how to make a movie regardless of budget or other limitations. Pratfall is a gem of a film. It’s not perfect, and it has some odd moments that detract from its desired effect. However, this film has so much to praise, and it all falls under the umbrella of Andre’s vision on an utterly impressive debut feature. Not without its flaws, this is a sweet and simple story that audiences will connect with in one way or another if they let it. Pratfall is in theaters and on VOD April 26. Rating: 4/5 |
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