Morgan Rojas

'Foe' Explores Modern Love in A Dystopian Future

Paul Mescal continues to ignite indie film fans with his sensitive, connection-driven characters. Most recently, this includes Foe, the sci-fi dystopian romance from director Garth Davis. Based on the book by Iain Reid, who co-wrote the screenplay alongside Davis, Foe is a dysfunctional love story for our modern times. More than just an examination of a relationship on life support, Foe seductively gets under the skin and passionately pulls at the heartstrings of anyone who has ever felt like an outsider looking in on their own life, trapped in a body with no control over how to use it.

Set forty years in the future but for the most part, still grounded in reality, a young man and his wife live in a secluded farmhouse far away from the commotion of the city. There is a palpable tension from the moment we meet Junior (Mescal) and Hen (Saoirse Ronan) but it is hard to pinpoint exactly what is creating their invisible walls. There does not seem to be a presence of anger, but more so the lack of empathy.

One night, Junior and Hen receive an unexpected knock at their door and find a stranger named Terrance (Aaron Pierre) on the porch. The man claims to be a representative of OuterMore, a corporate entity exploring the viability of off-world habitation, and he comes with shocking news: Junior has been involuntarily drafted into their space program. The exact dates are unclear but it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that Junior would be gone for years. Hen, rightfully devastated and confused, is consoled by Terrance's follow-up proposition. He tells her that in Junior's absence, an AI body double will be created in his place.

Junior–who has had no say in the matter and is visibly agitated that his life is being thrown into chaos–is against the idea of an AI model. Despite his outrage, Terrance tells Junior he has no choice but to go along with the plan and quickly infiltrates the couple's life, conducting experiments and intimate interviews all in the name of research. Going through this uncertainty together creates an unstable and highly emotional ebb and flow between Junior and Hen that swirls to a tsunami-like crescendo towards the film's bittersweet end.

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Garth Davis crafts an emotionally-drenched story about autonomy and choice in the name of love. Three characters make up the world of Foe, and all are truly spellbinding. For his part as the slowly unraveling and desperate Junior, Paul Mescal gives the performance of a lifetime. No stone is left unturned as he dials up the manic and physical outbursts, with his vulnerability (including his naked body) on display. Saoirse Ronan commands the room in every scene with her gentle and quietly stirring force. Her embodiment of a woman who exists as just a shell of herself is both relatable and frustrating.

Setting the film's visual tone is award-winning cinematographer Mátyás Erdély who makes desolation and despair look so beautiful. Musically, the score is stunning-which is no surprise given that composer and cellist Oliver Coates reteams with the Aftersun star for another melodic heartbreaker. Coates contributes more of the classical elements to the score while Korean composer Park Jiha aided in more of the soundtrack's primal and worldly sounds.

At times, the film does feel a bit clunky and overly dramatic. A more subtle approach, especially with Junior's emotional expression, would have felt more authentic and made his periodic breakdowns feel more impactful and affecting. Instead, we begin to lose compassion seeing him wail in nearly every other scene. I also couldn't help but wonder how Drake Doremus would have approached this script. His gentle touch when it comes to stirring up the raw and ugly side of love is what this film would have benefited from immensely.

While the film is not perfect, it does bring up existential questions that are worth pondering like the use of AI to express our thoughts through words that we don't write ourselves, and the harsh reality of saving troubled relationships on a declining planet. "Do you think more about the future, or the past," asks Hen one morning. It's a simple question but one that I personally haven't been able to honestly answer myself. Foe is a film that asks thought-provoking questions like these in spades. If you are like me and love a film that leaves you spiritually and intellectually stimulated, Foe will be your friend.

Amazon Studios / 108 Minutes / Rated R / English

by Morgan Rojas

The Crazy Case of 'Mister Organ': David Farrier Dips Into Darkness

From the filmmaker behind the disturbingly engrossing 2016 documentary, Tickled, comes another wacky story about the dark underbelly of society. Journalist David Farrier stumbles into another absurd dimension in Mister Organ, where an accidental run-in with a man acting as a wheel clamper turns into a nonstop psychological game of cat and mouse, and the repercussions of engaging with a psychopath still haunt David to this day.

This story is one that only David Farrier is qualified to tell. In his own words, this is the type of "weird mess" that he has become synonymous with.  What starts out as a rather mundane inquiry into the abnormal parking enforcements of a New Zealand antique shop, Bashford Antiques, spirals into a whodunit-type mystery that ends up leaving David with more questions than answers.

Jillian Bashford is the owner of Bashford Antiques, and she has a parking problem. Frustrated with the public using her private carport, she hires a man named Michael Organ as her late-night watchdog. If anyone is caught parking in the shop's designated area, Michael clamps their tires and only releases them for $700. Naturally, people are outraged. But not Ms. Bashford or Mr. Organ. Hearing the outrageous fee piques David's interest, and so he begins investigating the situation. Quickly, he discovers that there is so much more than meets the eye. As David gathers clues in real time, he begins piecing together the fact that Michael Organ is a mysterious, possibly dangerous, man. Court records and public documents show that he has claimed to be a prince as well as a lawyer, but his discovery is quickly met with caution as David discovers that Michael has also purposefully misspelled his name on legal documents to cover his tracks. Conversations with former acquaintances uncover even more intrigue, and all roads eventually lead to David and Michael meeting face-to-face.

What follows is unhinged chaos. Michael Organ is a black hole, and David Farrier has fallen into it. Michael is hostile and intimidating but also flamboyant and speaks in a monotone, molasses-like cadence. He is also extremely arrogant, the type of man who talks over you and won't stop talking until his point is made, regardless if he's interrupting an interview or live radio broadcast. Over the course of the film, as David unrelentingly pursues answers to his questions, his sanity begins to suffer. A psychological battle against a narcissist is one that David cannot win, and he realizes he has to stop.

Mister Organ will stir up plenty of emotions throughout its 96-minute runtime. Intrigue, annoyance, and hilarity all stay at the surface, mixing interchangeably depending on Michael Organ's mood and willingness to engage with David. Bringing the dark energy to an already palpable sense of tension is the score by composer Lachlan Anderson. The music is simmering and creepy, the perfect slow burn to accompany the arc of the film.

As a documentary journalist, David Farrier proves in Mister Organ that not all stories have happy endings or even conclusive ones. Calling Michael a "fuckwit who bores people to death until they jump off a building" may not live up to traditional journalist standards but David's vulnerability and defeatedness after engaging with Michael for three years on and off is a fascinating thing to witness. Mister Organ is an enthralling and equally disturbing documentary that exposes hidden secrets. It's also a cautionary tale about blind trust, begging us to think twice before engaging with a stranger.

Distributed by Drafthouse Films and MUBI / 96 minutes / New Zealand / 2022 / English

by Morgan Rojas

'Grasshopper Republic': Discover the Magic of These Delicate-Winged Insects

Shot in cinema verité style with special attention paid to spatial structure, director Daniel McCabe immerses audiences into the harvest season of a Ugandan grasshopper trapping team in the reverential documentary, Grasshopper Republic. Mesmerizing close-ups of these intricate and delicate winged insects with vibrant coloring and distinct chirping sounds, display a quality of beauty that is so often overlooked. As magical as they appear, the grasshoppers are more often regarded as a life source for a section of the Ugandan community, both as a bartering tool and in their food supply. Over the course of three seasons, McCabe highlights the tireless efforts of the trapping team and the lengths they go to secure this elusive prey by the barrel load.

Grasshopper Republic opens with the trance-like birth of a grasshopper, which looks more like an alien species than an earthly animal. Pale green transparent bodies with long extended antennas and black beady eyes fill the screen, all captured with special macro cameras akin to BBC's Planet Earth. This birth sequence foreshadows the pacing of the remainder of the film, which is to say it is slow and methodical. There is an intentional lack of dialogue and no talking head interviews are given. Rather, Daniel McCabe relies on field recordings and natural audio from the remote forests and villages to help build out the film's natural aesthetic.

With no acknowledgment of a camera presence, the documentary's biggest strength is its commitment to being immersive and observational. We quietly watch as the trapping team builds makeshift traps to catch grasshoppers and the ecological fallout that comes along with it, including the potential havoc wreaked on the village crops. Bringing this intensity to life is the wonderfully rich score from composer Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe (Candyman, Master, Telemarketers). His use of synths and reverb sounds like the buzzing of a swarm of insects, which really hits a crescendo near the end of the film when millions of grasshoppers appear in the sky like shooting stars.

Director Daniel McCabe found inspiration for Grasshopper Republic in the photobook "Nsenene" by Michele Sibiloni. This influence translates into a gorgeous documentary that plays more like an art piece than a traditional film. Commentary on living in symbiosis with nature is prevalent throughout the 94-minute runtime and serves as a beautiful reminder of gratitude for nature and its abundance.

by Morgan Rojas

'Carpet Cowboys': Look Inside the "Carpet Capitol of the World"

When was the last time you thought about the creation of carpet? If your answer is almost never, join the club. That plushy surface that embraces our feet is rarely given a second thought. Modern homes typically avoid the aesthetic altogether, citing its dated look and maintenance as a burden for homeowners and prospective buyers. Although carpet may be out of vogue for the majority, for a small cult-like community in Dalton, Georgia–often referred to as the "Carpet Capitol of the World"–carpet is the only thing on their minds.

The stylish documentary Carpet Cowboys is a macro look at the businessmen and innovators behind some of the country's mundane masterpieces. Directed by Emily Mackenzie and Noah Collier with Riel Roch-Decter producing and John Wilson (yes, of Max's docu-series How To with John Wilson) and Sebastian Pardo as Executive Producers, the meticulously eccentric Carpet Cowboys is the result of sharp-witted and contemporary creatives behind the lens. Humorous (sometimes uncomfortably so) while remaining observational and objective, this documentary is an all-around fresh and fun watch.

Throughout the film's swift 84-minute runtime, we're introduced to some of the men who have disrupted the carpet industry. That includes Scottish ex-pat Roderick James, a hotel and casino carpet designer (the most animated of the bunch). Like a Michael Scott-type caricature who's passionate about textiles, Rod peacocks his personal style through his wardrobe which primarily consists of his cowboy hat, fringe suede jacket, and stacks of thick silver rings. His eye for design may not translate in a fashion sense but when it comes to patterns for his textile business, Rod knows a good carpet design when he sees one. His iPhone is his tool and the outside world is his inspiration. Capturing the bark of a tree or blades of grass in a field can become Rod's next pattern (which is ironic considering he is capturing natural elements and memorializing them on an item that belongs indoors).

In a similar way that How To with John Wilson acts as an observation commentary on the niche cultural interests of a community, Carpet Cowboys follows the same blueprint. Mastering the balance of neutrality while also infusing comedy into the pacing and editing is a tricky task but one that Emily Mackenzie and Noah Collier accomplish gracefully. They set up various scenes with a keen eye for dramatics but don't interfere with the subjects onscreen to create the humor. Rather, they patiently let the characters bring the humor themselves, which they always do. This makes the film feel truly authentic, and not forced or contrived. These are real people with a real passion for carpets and no matter how silly or lighthearted that sounds, the subjects are never painted in a negative or "less than" light. To each, their own.

Carpet Cowboys is more than just a film about carpets. It also serves as a commentary on the American Dream and the rapidly changing landscape for small business owners and entrepreneurs. Set to a score by electronic ambient artist Kara-Lis Coverdale (stage name K-LC), Carpet Cowboys is an offbeat yet heartfelt film that, possibly for the first time ever, will have you pondering the story behind what's beneath your feet.

85 mins / USA / 2023 / English

by Morgan Rojas

'Scrapper': Growing Pains and Young Parenthood

When it comes to finding indie films, this year's Sundance darling Scrapper is a needle in a haystack. Honoring both the magical bewilderment of childhood and the stark realization of adulthood, Scrapper is an emotionally deft drama that is brimming with creativity and an abundance of love.

Slotting nicely in between The Florida Project and Aftersun–two films that also perfectly execute the young parent and adolescent relationship dynamic–director Charlotte Regan crafts a charming, heartfelt film about the growing pains within a family when an estranged young father re-enters the life of his pre-teen daughter after a tragedy.

Scrapper stars Lola Campbell as Georgie, a precarious and independent twelve-year-old who lives alone in the house she once shared with her single mother who recently passed from cancer. When we meet our protagonist, it is some time after her mother’s death, and Georgie seems to have adjusted to parenting herself. She spends most of her time with her best friend Ali (Alin Uzun), stealing bikes for money to make ends meet, and lies to anyone who questions her living situation, claiming that her fictional uncle is her guardian.

But for as brave of a face Georgie masquerades with in public, the loneliness is never far. Prominently displayed on a wall within the house is a checklist and upon closer inspection, it’s clear that Georgie is working her way through the 5 stages of grief. Little does she know that her life is about to change when she gets an unexpected visitor one morning: her estranged dad.

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Jason (Harris Dickinson) has been an absentee father for all of Georgie’s life, so their first encounter is no different than meeting a stranger. It takes time before Georgie begins to slowly warm up to Jason, whose well-intentioned but immature outlook on life comes with its own set of consequences. It’s clear that father and daughter both have a lot of growing up to do and in their own eccentric ways, Georgie and Jason start to navigate their new normal with each other by their side.

Charlotte Regan’s past career as a music video director is evident throughout Scrapper, from the quick cuts to the interesting composition and a beautifully stoic color grade. The film lands in a similar orbit to Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank in the sense that both share a powerful point of view of the British working class, but Scrapper offers the viewer a more optimistic, playful experience. Lola Campbell is a delight to watch light up the screen and is the perfect scene partner with Triangle of Sadness star Harris Dickinson. For his part as the reformed bad boy, Dickinson wears his heart on his sleeve as the character’s vulnerability unravels throughout the film.

Winner of the World Cinema Grand Jury Prize at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival, Scrapper is a full-bodied coming-of-age film that ranks among the best of the year. Tenderly told with creative execution and striking performances, this independent film serves as a springboard for all involved, proving that these are all stars on the rise.

by Morgan Rojas

My Animal

In a stylish and sleek feature film debut from director Jacqueline Castel, My Animal is a ravishing, methodical tailspin into the life of a high schooler who finds herself in the center of two conflicting pulls: inheritance vs. nonconformity. Making its World Premiere at the 2023 Sundance Film Festival, this LGBTQ+ thriller is a fierce statement about identity and gives a platform to an exciting new voice in indie film.

Bobbi Salvör Menuez (Euphoria) and Amandla Stenberg (Bodies Bodies Bodies) star in this erotically-charged, supernatural coming-of-age story about “forbidden” love. Heather (Menuez) is an outcast in every sense of the word. She lives with her overbearing family on the outskirts of a small town where her freedom is limited, being forced into lockdown during every full moon. She finds temporary joy during the day at the local ice rink, quietly obsessing over the hockey team and constantly trying to persuade the coach to let her join this overwhelmingly male sport. Heather is used to being told no throughout her life, whether it be by the hockey coach, her family, or society in general. That’s why, when she meets Jonny (Stenberg) and isn’t met with an immediate dismissal, Heather latches onto this relationship as if it’s her life force.

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Love can transform one into a beast. As Heather’s desire intensifies, so does her carnivorous, animalistic instincts. Under the moonlight, Heather transforms into a teenage werewolf unable to regulate any sense of composure or normalcy. This hidden secret is why her family operates as recluses from society, but like any teenage girl, Heather doesn’t want to be an “other.” She is desperate to be normal, not a lone wolf. Jonny’s presence in her life, while threatening to her parents, allows Heather to finally feel seen and accepted as she is.

Jacqueline Castel doesn’t concoct the stereotypical werewolf story with obvious tropes and outcomes in My Animal. Instead, she serves us a layered genre film that feels weighty in its point of view. Bobbi Salvör Menuez, who identifies as they/them, is perfectly cast as the angsty teenager searching for self-acceptance. Heather’s character arc is beautifully realized through Menuez’s performance, perhaps her best work to date. Without knowing for sure, I can only imagine Menuez brought some of their life experience into the role of Heather, adding to the character's authenticity and depth. Aiding the film sonically is the electronic score by composer Augustus Muller (half of the duo Boy Harsher).

My Animal taps into the feeling of “otherness” that is often experienced throughout a lifetime. Through this provocative vessel, Jacqueline Castel encourages the viewer to reflect on their own coming-of-age story and tap into the potential werewolf inside all of us.

Distributed by Paramount Movies. In theaters Friday, September 8th, coming to VOD Friday, September 15th.

by Morgan Rojas

Bottoms

As the credits rolled at the end of Shiva Baby back in 2021, I contemplated an immediate re-watch. I didn’t want the good times to end. This progressive, cool girl comedy that filmmaker Emma Seligman so effortlessly brought to life (in her directorial debut, no less) had reawakened a part of me that had been dormant for some time. This was the type of movie that spoke to me, and I wanted more of it! Luckily, her sophomore feature, Bottoms, lives up to the hype. After a World Premiere at the 2023 SXSW Film Festival – where the film was nominated for an Audience Award – Bottoms is coming to theaters on Friday, August 25th.

Exploring sexuality is a recurring theme throughout 28-year-old writer/director Emma Seligman’s relatively short repertoire. In Bottoms, which was co-written by her Shiva Baby collaborator and the film’s co-lead actor Rachel Sennott (The Idol, Bodies Bodies, Bodies), two high school outsiders attempt to lose their virginity by devising a sneaky plan to get close to their crushes which, to no surprise, inevitably turns into complete and utter chaos.

Rachel Sennott and Ayo Edebiri (The Bear) play PJ and Josie, best friends about to enter another dreadful year of high school. Both proudly queer, and sexually frustrated, they have the unconventional idea to start a fight club in an attempt to get close to Isabel (Havana Rose Liu) and Brittany (Kaia Gerber), the hot cheerleaders and most popular girls in school. Like Cady Heron infiltrating into the “Plastics” orbit in Mean Girls, PJ and Josie bask in the sweet victory of success. Girls of all social circles are flooding to their self-defense class, literally throwing themselves at each other during made-up games of floor wrestling and slap fighting. Long gone are the days of being called just “gay, untalented, and ugly.” The popular girls are finally paying attention. Of course, things don’t stay perfect forever as the football team intercepts PJ and Josie’s long con, threatening to expose them for the horny teenagers they really are.

There are many factors that can be attributed to the success of Bottoms, especially the quick-witted and sharp banter between Sennott and Edebiri. Together they are magnetic, exuding this instant familiarity that draws us in and doesn’t let us go. Their comedic timing is spot-on, and the dialogue delivery hits every time. The script, co-written by Seligman and Sennott, is the right amount of self-aware and gut-punch funny. Subtle one-off comments said under the breath, like “You don’t care about feminism, your favorite show is Entourage”, are some of the film’s most memorable moments.

Best of all, Bottoms evokes a sense of nostalgia for rom-coms of the past. Imagine Superbad, Bring It On, and American Pie told through the lens of queer, sexually starved high school girls. Adding to the sense of female empowerment is seeing how many women contributed to the making of Bottoms behind the scenes and leading departments such as cinematography (Maria Rusche), editing (Hanna Park), casting (Maribeth Fox), and art direction (Michelle Jones).

Bottoms is a film for the girls, for the alt-Barbie crowd. A fierce soundtrack – which includes a perfectly-placed Avril Lavigne “Complicated” sync – and an original score by Leo Birenberg and Charli XCX is the perfect companion to the film’s fast-paced, frenetic energy. It’s definitely worth staying through the entire film so you don’t miss the bloopers and outtakes that are sprinkled throughout the end credits.

If you’re looking for the perfect back-to-school raunchy rom-com, make sure Bottoms is on the top of your watchlist.

by Morgan Rojas