'Heaven Rain Flows Sweetly' is a Love Letter Places We Call Home
Director Shasha Li makes her directorial debut in the personal, nostalgia-rich documentary, Heaven Rain Flows Sweetly. The film is full of reminiscence about Li's childhood home and the memories made there, especially those shared with her aging grandmother. Shasha's meditative, deeply moving film acts as a video diary of her most precious images, a tangible piece of video art that can be experienced on the screen over and over again. This universal feeling of longing for the comfort of childhood is explored in great detail throughout the film's brisk 68-minute runtime.
Having always considered herself to be a nomad, Shasha's love of travel and exploration brought her from China to the US as a teenager, and while she loves the life experience she has gained throughout her journeys, she admits to growing distant from her roots both environmentally and culturally. There are similarities between her hometown and her current residence in Eugene, Oregon, with the forest air and proximity to nature being incredibly compatible. However, when the famous wildfires break out, Shasha is forced to flee. The memories of her hometown suddenly become overwhelming and Shasha feels called to revisit her past.
Home is where the heart is, and Heaven Rain Flows Sweetly acts as a love letter to Shasha's hometown of Lijiang, a small village in the Himalayan foothills. Through her soft-spoken narration and vibrantly captured images, Shasha transports the viewer into the picturesque community of the Nakhi tribe with their lush surroundings. It is here, away from the bustling noises and stress of the city, that those like Shasha's grandmother live in symbiosis with nature. This slow-living mentality is a reflection of the film's meditative tone. Almost dreamlike, Heaven Rain Flows Sweetly pays homage to the cultural traditions of the Nakhi people's faith and general way of life.
The film comes across as very intuitive, given how closely Shasha is to the material as the film's main subject, director, producer, cinematographer, and editor. Given that culmination, it's not surprising that this project is an extension of herself. The personal narrative structure works so well because of the amount of access and intimacy that we are privy to. Despite coming from a deeply personal place, Shasha's story is universal and the feelings of nostalgia are something we can all relate to in one way or another. As a directorial debut, Shasha Li's Heaven Rain Flows Sweetly–is an official selection of DOC NYC 2023–and a simmering, aesthetically rich knockout.
Exclusive: Listen to Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch's Score From 'All of Us Strangers'
In Andrew Haigh's melancholic romantic drama All of Us Strangers, the theme of connection amidst loneliness is a powerful one. Starring Andrew Scott as Adam, a semi-recluse, and Paul Mescal as Harry, his outgoing and charming neighbor, the film ethereally floats through a tapestry of big emotions, including love, loss, and empathy. The parallel storyline involves Adam revisiting his past, literally, which adds another layer of nostalgia to the film's makeup.
The performances are certainly stunning and are illuminated by award-winning composer Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch's score. Using a mixture of synths and strings, she effortlessly evokes the “texture” of memory with sound and creates a stirring symphony of feelings.
Cinemacy is excited to premiere the All of Us Strangers score sampler from Hollywood Records and Searchlight Pictures, below:
Unlike more traditional films, Levienaise-Farrouch intended to create a soundtrack that acts as the sonic equivalent of memories. To achieve this, much of the score is comprised of short, fleeting moments rather than long, pattern-based melodies. The etherealness of the music aids the film beautifully and also acts as a strong standalone piece as well.
Says Levienaise-Farrouch: “Being a part of the wonderful team who made Andrew Haigh's creative vision come to life was an immense privilege. All Of Us Strangers tells a story that is narratively so specific and yet touches on universal feelings at the core as what makes us human, the yearning for connection, acceptance, and love. It has been a joy to create a musical world that amplifies Andrew Scott's delicate performance as the lead character, Adam, and accompanies the audience on this oneiric journey. Piano, cello, violin, and synthesizers, often manipulated with effects, were utilized in an intimate, dreamlike, and warm score which I hope will bring audiences as many emotions on its own as it does within the context of the film.”
Before her work on All of Us Strangers, Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch scored the BAFTA, Golden Globe, and Oscar-nominated feature, Living, starring Bill Nighy. Prior to that, the film that first put her name on our radar was Prano Bailey-Bond's horror hit Censor (2021), released by MGM. In addition to her film scoring work, which includes Sarah Gavron's BAFTA-winning feature Rocks, and Harry Wootliff’s BAFTA-nominated debut Only You, and Nathaniel Martello White's The Strays for Netflix, she has also collaborated with visual artists Danica Dakic, Alice May Williams, and Natasha Caruana on music for video installations exhibited in London, Liverpool, and Arles, France. She has also been commissioned by multiple classical instrumentalists to compose pieces for their repertoire.
Hollywood Records and Searchlight Pictures are releasing the 18-track score album 'All of Us Strangers (Original Score)' alongside the film's theatrical release on Friday, December 22.
'The Iron Claw': The Hereditary Curse of Family Legacy
For a film so deeply rooted in machismo culture and the bonds of brotherhood, there is a soft side to The Iron Claw that is so unexpectedly moving it brought a grown woman (me) to tears. Director Sean Durkin's biopic of the world's most infamous wrestling family tells a haunting story of legacy, expectation, and the costly price of success. Complicated family dynamics between an oppressive father and his four compliant sons create such palpable tension and discomfort that it can be hard to watch at times without intense feelings of parasocial guilt. Despite this, I'm hard-pressed to recommend anything else. Durkin and his incredible ensemble cast bring to the screen one of the most visceral films of the year, one full of tenacity and grit, and easily among my favorites of 2023.
Set in the early 1980s, The Iron Claw tells the true story of the Von Erich family and their tragic, unfinished legacy within the competitive world of professional wrestling. Born and raised in Texas, the bond between the Von Erich brothers – Kevin (Zac Efron), Kerry (Jeremy Allen White), David (Harris Dickinson), and Mike (Stanley Simons) – is truly something special. Not only do they share a love of wrestling, but they all endured growing up in the shadow of their domineering father and coach, Fritz Von Erich (Holt McCallany). Determined to have his sons pick up where he left off and push the family name toward victory, Fritz creates an environment where winning a medal equates to winning his respect.
The tough love, despite its borderline abusive tendencies, seems to work. Kevin's (Efron) commitment to the sport proves unwavering as he climbs the ranks and starts becoming a notable figure. He seems like the obvious choice to lead the Von Erich dynasty to victory but obstacles make his road to stardom difficult. His brother Kerry (White), whose Olympic discus dreams were dashed after President Carter denied Americans from competing due to political reasons, realigns his athletic ambitions and sets his sights on the wrestling ring as well. David (Dickinson), known for his outgoing personality, follows suit and quickly becomes Fritz's favorite son – a title Fritz doesn't shy away from publicly declaring. His attempts to subtly pit the boys against each other to stir up aggression and animosity have an adverse effect; the Von Erich boys instead band together to become a source of refuge and understanding.
This story could have resulted in many different outcomes, but the deaths of three of the four brothers never crossed my mind. For those unfamiliar with the story, unfathomable misfortune and loss pollute the Von Erich family's legacy. All silently suffering from childhood trauma at the hands of their father, which they express in different ways. It's a heartbreaking realization that Fritz is clearly more concerned about his family's legacy than his individual children's well-being and future.
As the credits rolled, I was left gobsmacked. The ensemble cast is phenomenal, nothing short of astounding. For his role as the sole survivor, Zac Efron undergoes a full-body transformation that is worthy of every award. Jeremy Allen White and Harris Dickinson tap into their raging animalistic side and give some of their best performances to date. It's guttural, emotive, and tender all at once. Breakout star Stanley Simons, who plays the youngest brother Mike, is breathtaking. His presence among the film's A-list stars feels authentic and grounded, a tall order for any actor but one that he fills with ease. Holt McCallany as Fritz and Maura Tierney as the boys' emotionally detached and stoic mother, Doris, are both pitch perfect. The film is incredibly physical, and all who participate in the logistical aspects of the performance, both in the ring and outside of it, are exceptional. The amount of work that went into preparing for these roles and the amount of muscle that had to be built to achieve the Von Erichs' signature stature is an astounding feat.
In a career-defining role for Efron, as well as for director Sean Durkin, The Iron Claw lands squarely within the narrow qualifications for perfection. It is both a ghost story about lost potential as well as a testament to the antithesis of fame. It's complicated, emotionally taxing, and devastatingly abrupt. The Iron Claw should go down in history as one of the best sports biopics of all time.
In theaters this Friday, December 22, 2023.
'The Zone of Interest': The Immersive Disquiet of Holocaust Atrocity
I was tempted to make this review my shortest one yet at only five words long: "You must see this film." Words can only go so far when describing Jonathan Glazer's hauntingly grim immersive experience, The Zone of Interest. Winner of the Grand Prix at the 2023 Cannes Film Festival, this Holocaust-set drama is a chilling portrayal of history's most atrocious cruelties. If you're like me, it will leave you speechless.
Based on the biographical novel by Martin Amis, The Zone of Interest views the devastating events of the Holocaust from the perspective of a German militia family. The phrase "Zone of Interest" was commonly used by the Nazi SS to describe the small area immediately surrounding the Auschwitz concentration camp. And it's here where this film takes place.
The commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Höss (Christian Friedel), and his wife Hedwig (Sandra Hüller), attempt to build a dream life for their family despite being surrounded by the consistent sounds of suffering and death. Their picturesque home and luscious garden lay in stark contrast to the concentration camp that borders their property. As much as Hedwig and her young children seem to easily drown out the sounds of gunshots, crying, and screaming, we as viewers know that there is no escaping the horrors that are taking place behind the walls. Inside the family's home is a haven; but step one foot outside, and it's hell.
When Rudolf is informed that his superiors want him to move to a different city, Hedwig is beside herself. She refuses to leave the beautiful home she made for herself and, for a while, their marriage is only barely surviving. Rudolf views his responsibilities as a death camp commandment with the utmost respect and obeys his orders, taking this new position as an opportunity to better provide for his family. It's a morality mind warp, as on one hand, Rudolf cares so little about human life that he is actively encouraging mass genocide. On the other, he sacrifices everything to give his family the best life he possibly can. As a viewer, confronting guilt, conflict, and humanity comes in unpredictable, emotional waves.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r-vfg3KkV54&ab_channel=A24
Witnessing the atrocities of the Holocaust from a perspective we don't often see–that of the Germans–is one of the reasons why The Zone of Interest is such an uncomfortable watch. There reaches a point where the screams from behind the concentration camp walls become almost ambient, like a horrific yet subtle soundtrack that plays in perpetuity. Adding to the discomfort is the intentional lack of any musical score. Composer Mica Levy (Under the Skin, Monos) contributed ambient-heavy, noise-distorted sound to aid in the opening and end credit roll, but aside from those two moments, there is no additional music. Instead, sound designer Johnnie Burn is heavily relied upon to craft a sensational auditory world that runs concurrently with what is playing onscreen.
Capturing the nuances and complexities in stunning detail is cinematographer Łukasz Żal (Ida, Cold War, I'm Thinking of Ending Things). True to form, Żal's compositions are masterfully composed, even with Glazer's unconventional production technique. Fixed and partially hidden cameras were placed around the entire family house, and the actors were required to perform long, unbroken takes, never knowing which moments would be used in the final edit. Due to the nature of the shoot, Friedel and Hüller were tasked with improvising some scenes while others were carefully scripted.
For most of the production, Glazer and Żal watched the scene play out through monitors while stationed in a separate concrete bunker with a team of focus pullers working via a system of remote cables. Says Glazer: “The phrase I kept using was ‘Big Brother in the Nazi house.’ We couldn’t do that, of course, but it was more like the feeling of ‘Let’s watch people in their day-to-day lives.’ I wanted to capture the contrast between somebody pouring a cup of coffee in their kitchen and somebody being murdered on the other side of the wall, the co-existence of those two extremes.”
The performances from Christian Friedel and Sandra Hüller as stiff and detached protagonists are among the year's best. They keep the audience at arm's length, and their vacant eyes say more than any words could. Psychologically mystifying, the duality of playing a character with human emotions, yet seemingly devoid of apathy, is a fine line to walk. Yet Friedel and Hüller walk it with a stark, horrifying precision.
The Zone of Interest is, at its core, a rather simple story about one Nazi family's existence and contributions to one of the worst events in human history. It's a difficult film to witness and an even more difficult one to forget.
'The Taste of Things' Is a Transfixing Culinary Triumph
Perhaps one of the most viscerally indulgent films of the year, filmmaker Tran Anh Hung's The Taste of Things offers a sizzling, gastronomic treat that aims to satiate all of the senses. At the heart of the film is a tender love story between two middle-aged cooks in their "autumn" years whose commitment to each other consistently reverberates throughout their rich, albeit, repetitive life.
The year is 1889 and Eugénie Chatagne (Juliette Binoche) can be found doing what she does best: cooking. Commanding the kitchen as if on auto-pilot, Eugénie waltzes around the stoves and counters with stunning confidence and finesse. No recipe books to be found, she adds thinly sliced vegetables to the pot au feu, dashes of salt to the brine of fish, and whole milk to the pastries that will no doubt come out perfectly golden brown. Eugénie is a food artist and is highly respected by chef Dodin Bouffant (Benoît Magimel), whose meals are often prepared for him and his friends by Eugénie.
Admiring more than just her skills, Dodin is infatuated with Eugénie and expresses his love often. The two cooks have worked together for over 20 years and their love for each other has sustained time, growing stronger with each passing year. It is never explicitly addressed why Eugénie has kept Dodin at a distance, romantically speaking, despite clearly having so much love for him, too. However, their love circumvents the need for traditional labels. They express their devotion through the food they prepare for each other; acts of service are their love language and they are fluent in their declaration.
The Taste of Things is nothing if not a flavorful feast for the eyes and ears. The opening of the film takes audiences on an artful journey through the intangible senses as we watch Eugénie and her young apprentice prepare a multi-course meal fit for a king. With such synchronicity–as if choreographing a ballet–we watch her quietly create some of the most gorgeous plates of French cuisine to ever exist on screen. It's almost comical how appetizing the food looks and how we can practically taste every individual course in such fine detail. Three-star chef Pierre Gagnaire served as a consultant on the film, helping director Tran Anh Hung achieve perfection on a plate.
Juliette Binoche delivers a reliably strong performance as the self-assured Eugénie, her grace and embodiment of the character are truly felt. Acting opposite Binoche is Benoît Magimel, her real-life former partner and father to their daughter, Hana Magimel. Binoche shared this connection in an exclusive Q&A during an early screening to a stunned audience, who mostly had no idea there was a prior history between the two leads. This personal backstory aids the film in insurmountable ways. Another unconventional takeaway is that for as much joie de vivre that surrounds The Taste of Things, there is a noticeable lack of score. A singular piano piece from Jules Massenet’s opera “Thaïs” is the only musical element in the film, however, the film never lacks for sound. The elements of cooking–sizzling butter, burning wood, running water, chopping vegetables–all aid in creating the film's aroma-based soundtrack.
The richness that seeps throughout the scenes in The Taste of Things is a vision to behold. Let yourself get washed away in the sights and smells of Tran Anh Hung's transfixing culinary triumph.
In 'Cypher,' Rapper Tierra Whack Confronts A Stalker
Tierra Whack does things differently. The 27-year-old rapper from Philadelphia is using a medium other than music to let fans get a sneak peek into her world in her off-the-wall documentary Cypher, which won Best U.S. Narrative Feature at the 2023 Tribeca Film Festival. From a 15-year-old street rapper who went by the name “Dizzle Dizz” to signing to Interscope Records and receiving widespread critical acclaim in only a few years, Tierra is a force of nature. Her talent is undeniable, her style is unapologetically bold, and her confidence serves as inspiration. That much we know about Tierra Whack. But Cypher cheekily shows that there is much more to be discovered.
Cypher is billed as a pseudo-documentary, akin to the 2020 Sundance-selected The Nowhere Inn, starring St. Vincent and Carrie Brownstein. Whereas I wasn’t a big fan of the latter, I’m happy to report that Cypher’s execution nails the undefinable tone, perfecting the balance of authentic musical moments and self-aware mystery plots. Written and directed by Chris Moukarbel (Gaga: Five Foot Two, Banksy Does New York), Cypher grants access to Tierra’s life behind the scenes.
The film starts out simple enough, we see her in the studio, hanging out with friends, and performing in front of thousands of fans. Things take a turn after one of her shows, where she engages in a conversation with a woman she thought was a fan. Turns out, the fan, Tina Johnson-Banner is a conspiracy theorist who has been stalking Tierra both in person and online. Tina is a devout follower of a secret cult that claims Tierra Whack is the chosen one, their messiah, and won’t stop until the occult ritual is complete.
It serves to point out that the title Cypher is very intentional. One meaning of the word, perhaps more obvious, is a message written in a secret code. The other usage is to describe a gathering of rappers in a circle who make music together. This double meaning is indicative of the film’s slyness and hidden-in-plain-sight message.
Enjoyably self-aware, uncomfortably humorous, and poignantly dark, Cypher is an entertaining watch with a message. Through a consumer-friendly lens, it points out the many dark sides of being a public figure and how “fame” puts personal safety at risk. Especially in the age of social media and parasocial relationships that fans can develop with their ideals, Cypher proves that you never know who’s truly watching you.
This review originally ran on June 23, 2023 during the Tribeca Film Festival
In 'Smoke Sauna Sisterhood' Women Bare Their Bodies And Souls
Imagine a sauna in the middle of a snowy forest. The smell of steaming rocks, burnt embers, and warm cedar infiltrates your senses. If you're like me, a feeling of ease immediately floods your body. A deep inhale, followed by an even deeper exhale dispels all feelings of negativity and stress. Here, secluded from the distractions of the outside world, the mind is free to roam.
In Smoke Sauna Sisterhood, which premiered in the World Cinema Documentary category at this year's Sundance Film Festival, director Anna Hints dedicates her film to the sacred Estonian tradition of "savvusanna kombõ," or, smoke saunas heated by a stove. For an hour and a half, we feel as if we are among a local group of women who frequent the sauna to cleanse their bodies and minds and connect with fellow feminine spirits.
Smoke Sauna Sisterhood follows a very loose narrative structure. Forgoing a linear storyline, the film plays mostly like a fly-on-the-wall observational documentary. Nameless women of all ages and sizes gather at the sauna deep in the southern Estonia forest. There, they bare not only their bodies but their souls. Each with a story to tell, the women take turns leading vulnerable conversations around such topics as sex, relationships, cancer, shame, body image, and death. Much like a church confessional, the sauna acts as a safe space for complete honesty, no matter how complex the topic at hand is.
The film draws a poignant parallel between women and mother nature: both act as a resource for life. This sentiment is explored abstractly through their stories and in respectfully photographed images of their naked bodies. The environment of the film is also completely absorbing and stunning. Cinematographer Ants Tammik highlights the rich, organic colors of the Estonian outback from the depths of the damp sauna to the purity of the vast, snow-covered ground. Seeing these women set against this backdrop is nothing short of magical.
Smoke Sauna Sisterhood is a striking celebration of natural beauty in all forms. For as vulnerable as these women seemingly are – naked and confessing to shortcomings or defeats – their strength is beyond measure. The film's intimacy, combined with universally poignant themes, makes Smoke Sauna Sisterhood a rare, much-needed cinematic escape.
This review originally ran on January 29, 2023 during the Sundance Film Festival
https://youtu.be/u57aVf1-SBk?si=AscSKNBZ90iSec0J
'Maestro' Hits All The Right Notes With Stunning Finesse
A star was born in Bradley Cooper's directorial debut, and that star has matured into a force of nature in his sophomore feature, the Leonard Bernstein biopic, Maestro. The depth of beauty runs deep throughout the film's 129-minute runtime, as Cooper offers audiences a richly observed panoramic portrait of a misunderstood artist whose music contributed to some of the most unforgettable scores of all time. Starring as the multi-hyphenated conductor/composer himself, Bradley Cooper's ability to capture magic both onscreen and off is a sight–and sound–to behold. Move over Lydia Tár, there's a new maestro in town.
The biographical drama serves as a character study of Leonard Bernstein (Cooper) at five different pivotal stages in his life. Spanning 25 years young to 71 years old, the film's primary focus isn't solely centered around musical achievements or performances. Rather, audiences embark on a decades-long love story between the flighty Bernstein and the grounded and mature love of his life, actress Felicia Montealegre Cohn Bernstein (Carey Mulligan). The film weaves through their lighthearted honeymoon phase with a stoic black-and-white color grade. Signaling a sense of reminiscence for the past, nearly half of the film is portrayed in black and white. During this time period, both Bernstein and Montealegre's careers accelerate, albeit at different paces and scales, and signs of tomfoolery on Leonard's behalf become apparent. We learn that Leonard, prior to marrying Felicia, had been in a relationship with a man (Matt Bomer) and his attraction to men is still very much being acted upon. This creates a growing conflict within their relationship, and an internal explosion within Felicia is embodied in the film as it visually transforms into color.
The couple's intricate and complicated relationship dynamic fills the second half of the film, which is now portrayed in stunning color. Family, friends, instruments, and cigarettes come in and out of every scene, it is fully captivating both visually and musically. The film's sudden color switch causes our eyes and ears to perk up with the expectation that something big will be coming, and oh boy, does it deliver. In perhaps one of the finest musical scenes I've ever witnessed in a movie, Bradley Cooper takes the stage near the end of the film's third act and gives the performance of a lifetime. His embodiment of Leonard Bernstein conducting a full orchestra and choir in a six-minute stunning one-take had chills running down both of my legs. Taking place in an equally beautiful old church, the grand concerto comes to a dramatic end, and the audience I was sitting with erupted into rapturous applause, myself included. I think we collectively forgot that this is a movie and not a full-bodied, 3-D experience accompanied by the London Symphony Orchestra. It was a moment that resonated with me more than any other film moment this year.
The craftwork that makes up Maestro is impeccable, from the costumes to the makeup and prosthetics used to portray Bernstein's later years. The richness and nuanced characteristics are captured by the master of photography, Matthew Libatique, in stunning detail. Playing to the strengths of both the black and white and color, Libatique brings the man and the music to life. Further reviving the virtuoso's story is the score, which were all instrumental works pulled from the Bernstein archives.
On the performance front, Bradley Cooper fully transforms into Leonard Bernstein and at times, it's easy to forget that this isn't a documentary. His speech pattern and his physical performance are magnetic, it's hard to look at anyone else when he's on screen. That's not to say Carey Mulligan isn't also a dynamic force, but her strength comes from a more subtle place. The opportunity to explore Leonard and Felicia's yin/yang personalities–independent of and with each other–is an actor's playground. There is so much material to devour yet Cooper and Mulligan never let the combative and unpredictable nature of the Bernsteins' relationship feel forced or unnecessarily fraught.
Maestro is the result of a finely tuned synchronicity from all sides. Performance, direction, aesthetics, and craft all contribute to this monumental work of art. Some may be baffled to hear that the musical component of Bernstein's legacy plays second fiddle to his complicated love story, but rest assured, there is no shortage of awe-inducing moments that will have you whispering "wow" from under your breath. Maestro hits all the right notes and then some.