Film Reviews, Interviews and Articles
An aspiring actor with an extreme facial deformity undergoes an experimental procedure and ends up missing out on the role of a lifetime. Things only get worse when the life he always dreamed up ends up in the hands of a rival actor, himself facially deformed. Writer-director Aaron Schimberg combines body horror with a Shakespearean-level of ironic romantic tragedy to tell a nightmarish story about one man’s journey to reshape – and ultimately undo – himself. Read More
Rose Glass’ Love Lies Bleeding melds a greasy crime drama with a gritty love story, presenting an American saga steeped in steroid-fueled rage, white trash aesthetics, and memorably bad haircuts. Glass leans into B-movie intrigue with an elite level of execution, creating a visually provocative and impressively-performed world of high crimes and low sleaze and populating it with scumbags and weirdos. A followup to her excellent religious-horror debut Saint Maud, Love Lies Bleeding furthers Glass’ exploration of those on the fringes of society. In this case, it’s late-80s Nevada, a dried-up rural wasteland where the local gun club is the center of all cultural and sociopolitical activity, as well as the epicenter of its deeply-integrated criminal enterprise. Read More
Kieran Culkin shines in Jesse Eisenberg’s tender sophomore feature A Real Pain. A poignant meditation on loss, grief, and family history that’s part autobiographical and entirely heartfelt, Eisenberg has seemingly found his groove as a creator interested in melding melancholic human stories with relationship-driven good humor. “Anything that I’ve written that’s good is very personal,” Eisenberg shared at the premiere and with A Real Pain, he’s excavated situations and characters from his own life and translated them into a good-natured and provocative little drama with wide-reaching appeal. Read More
Eight former college friends reunite the evening before their friend’s wedding to play a heady game with far-reaching consequences. Such is the set-up for Greg Jardin’s utterly transfixing debut feature, a precisely-constructed explosion of creativity that smashes together the college reunion comedy, puzzle box thrillers, and a Shane Carruth-esque level of science-fiction precision. Skillfully paced to snatch your attention early on and never lose it for a moment, experiencing It’s What’s Inside is like watching a flawlessly executed magic trick for the very first time. Read More
Jane Schoenbrun’s audacious followup to their attention-grabbing debut We’re All Going to the World’s Fair is billed as a horror feature but it takes careful time developing said horror. And delivers a wallop. A quietly remarkable film, and one that spurred a handful of walkouts during its Sundance premiere, I Saw The TV Glow is not an easily accessible film. But with just a little thought, investment, and excavation, this handsomely-mounted ethereal slowburn will be sure to worm its way deep under your skin and suck you into the screen. Read More
Ryan Fleck and Anna Boden’s Freaky Tales, a madcap 1987 Oakland-set anthology, is a lot. Told in four loosely threaded together chapters, this interconnected story of the intersection of corruption, subculture, and violence in Reagan-era west coast America bites off more than it can chew, becoming more of an implosive collision than a meaningful exploration of much as it stretches on. As is often the case with anthological features, each individual story only feels half-baked, the germ of a story not afforded the room to grow and develop into something more. They’re connected in only the loosest of senses, making the sloppy whole certainly less than the sum of its sometimes interesting parts. Read More
When three British teenage friends, Tara (Mia McKenna-Bruce), Skye (Lara Peake) and Em (Enva Lewis), abscond for a weekend holiday of hard partying, thumping clubs, and fast sex, they find that their freewheeling existence is more fragile than imagined. Tara, or “Taz” when she’s in full party animal mode, is the rowdy, raunchy heart and soul of the party and the film. She has yet to lose her virginity, and her mates won’t let her forget this fact. The trio embarks on their holiday with a clear goal: to explore their sexualities, particularly Tara’s. This setup is familiar for a coming-of-age romp but How to Have Sex quickly becomes something much deeper and more penetrative. Read More
Teit (Mikkel Boe Følsgaard) and Stine (Marie Bach Hansen) are storytellers who’ve left civilization to live off the land for a year – and podcast about the experience – in Superposition. The issue is that might not be the only Teit and Stine out there. This dense and well-constructed metaphysical thriller is designed to screw with your head, with splashes of heady sci-fi creepers like Coherence, Good Night Mommy, and The Night House spliced throughout to create an unnerving exercise in existential dread and doppelgänger distress. Though impressively economic and “small” in scope, Superposition feels expansive by virtue of its big ideas and Karoline Lyngbye’s staggering, inventive direction. She ratchets up the tension and pokes at philosophical quagmires, like the meaning of fidelity in bold, metaphysical ways. It all begs the question: if you met an exact copy of yourself, would you rather fuck, marry, or kill them? (B+)
Capsule Review for Seattle International Film Festival 2023.
In My Animal, Jacqueline Castel deftly blends ’80s nostalgia and Giallo inspiration into a queer, modern fairy tale. This indie film take on high school werewolf erotica feels like a darker, more niche Stephanie Meyer creation, complete with issues of abuse and alcoholism, the tension of forbidden love, and, yes, werewolf angst. Bobbi Salvör Menuez and Amandla Stenberg offer a pair of compelling lead turns as Heather and Jonny, new friends falling headfirst into forbidden flirtation, their palpable chemistry grounding the more outlandish elements of the film. A worthwhile slow-burn, My Animal succeeds in spite of obvious budget constraints, leaning into its over-the-top ’80s-inspired synth score and cheap production design element to add a nostalgic touch – which lends the howling haunt a major whiff of after-school special. (B-)
Capsule Review for Seattle International Film Festival 2023.
Some of the most romantic movies to ever exist (Before Sunset) don’t feature even a kiss. Enter Past Lives, Celine Song’s achingly romantic two-hander about a pair of entangled Korean childhood friends who must navigate their deep connection across 7,000 miles (she’s in New York, he’s in Korea) and 24 years as they drift into and out of each other’s lives. Song makes it all feel so natural and real, allowing an outsider’s glimpse into this simmering relationship to blossom into something closer to deep knowing and genuine intimacy, eliciting a complex spectrum of emotion that’s both universal and deeply specific. Her debut feature, which boasts spellbinding cinematography and a yearning musical score, is just so alive; as ponderous and philosophical as it is well-acted and deeply-felt. One of the best of the year thus far. (A-)
Capsule Review for Seattle International Film Festival 2023.