SXSW: 'The School of Canine Massage': A Dogumentary On Wellness
For too long, man's best friend has been left out of the wellness conversation but the Ojai School of Canine Massage is hoping to change that. In director Emma D. Miller's short "dogumentary" The School of Canine Massage, dog owners learn firsthand how valuable and beneficial it is to indulge their pets in a little doggy TLC, for both their health and relationship.
Running 11 minutes long, The School of Canine Massage is a tightly bundled piece of filmmaking. Taking place in one location, Ojai Valley Women's Club, the film opens with a canine masseuse demonstrating various movements and massage techniques on a black pug who seems to turn into putty the longer the back rub goes on. Like their human counterparts, the masseuse points out that dogs also enjoy cupping, kneading, gentle back-slapping, and prodding. Not only does this attention stimulate muscles and relieve tension and tightness, but it also strengthens the bond between owner and pet.

Sure, this borderlines SNL skit territory, but there's no denying that the massages are truly making a difference in these dogs' lives. Close-ups of satisfied pups getting head scratches would be laughable if it wasn't so cute. Pugs, poodles, corgis, and more sit contentedly in the laps of their attentive owners and quickly fall into a deep meditative state, much to the amusement and relief of their pet parents. Animal massage therapy and acupressure really work, and Emma D. Miller's exploratory documentary makes a strong case for shamelessly pampering your pet. My only critique is that I wish the film was longer, I could watch dogs getting massages for days.
'Books & Drinks': A Charming Rom-Com Set in Caribbean Paradise
For those who want a blissful, tropically-set romantic comedy that feels like a warm hug mixed with a whiff of sunscreen, look no further than Books & Drinks. Making its World Premiere at the 2024 Santa Barbara Film Festival, Books & Drinks stars Jackson Rathbone, who you may remember as Jasper from the Twilight series, playing a charismatic bookstore owner who unexpectedly finds himself receiving a windfall of funds leading to an introspective journey toward self-realization, confidence, and joy. Books & Drinks, directed by Geoffrey Cowper, is a fun and lighthearted affair that brings out the best in its cast, and the most of its on-set location.
The next best thing to winning the lottery would be inheriting a mansion in the Caribbean. It's a dream scenario that knocks thirty-something David (Rathbone) off of his feet when he is given this unexpected news by his mother. In a somewhat hilariously dark manner, David's mom drops the bombshell that his father, who she always claimed died when David was a baby but, in reality, had just recently passed away, left David a house worth $2 million in the Dominican Republic. David has no plans to uproot his life in Brooklyn and move to the Caribbean but sees that house as a means to revive his flailing Brooklyn-based independent bookstore.
David decides, with support from his fiance Maria (Nashla Bogaert), that he will travel to the DR and sell his father's house, but upon his arrival, it becomes evident that David's dad wasn't just the mansion owner, but also a big deal in this small community. The house staff, who were close to his father, pay their condolences while also trying to seduce David so that he'll become attached and not sell the house. As it turns out, the only thing that seduces David is the realtor Rachel (Clara Lago), a beautiful, bubbly brunette who very clearly sparks David's interest.
Over a couple of weeks, David and Rachel grow close, bonding over their drive and passion for life. She encourages him not to give up on his bookstore dreams and helps him come up with clever ways to attract customers. She has the idea–which personally, sounds pretty amazing– to create signature cocktails inspired by authors like a Bloody Mary for Stephen King or an absinthe-based drink for Oscar Wilde. It's at this moment that David falls for Rachel and her generous, creative spirit. You can make an educated guess about halfway through the film as to where the story is headed, and while a few curveballs are sprinkled in, there is a predictable sweetness that feels reminiscent of comforting old-school rom-coms.
The central message in Books & Drinks is to follow one's intuition to not give up on your dreams. It's a fun way to spend 94 minutes. Plus...the mansion is total eye candy, which may or may not have enticed me to look up similar properties on Zillow, just for fun.
'Ennio' is a Masterpiece Fit for a Maestro
It's been said that, at the sound of the first note, you will be able to identify an Ennio Morricone score. The duality of the music's boldness and beauty is unmistakable. We also know what will follow is a rich orchestral melody that weaves in and out of emotional landscapes. The prolific composer's influence on music scores in cinema is explored in great detail through Ennio, directed by his longtime collaborator, Cinema Paradiso filmmaker, Giuseppe Tornatore. Paying tribute to one of the industry's most legendary artists, Ennio explores the maestro’s career across his iconic film scores, including The Good, The Bad, and the Ugly, Days of Heaven, A Fistful of Dollars, and his Academy Award-winning work on The Hateful Eight, among hundreds more.
I like to listen to music when I write, and sitting down to begin this review was no different. As I opened Spotify and searched for his name, I was shocked but not surprised to see that the Ennio Morricone profile receives an average of 3.3 million listeners a month. His most recognizable song, "The Ecstasy of Gold" from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly shows that it has been streamed nearly 69 million times and counting. These numbers, while staggering, are only a snapshot of the storied career of the Italian maestro.
The documentary runs just over two hours and thirty minutes, and every frame is packed with words of admiration from Ennio's peers, including autobiographical anecdotes from Ennio himself. Fans of his music-making process will revel in the abundance of fascinating interviews with various musicians and directors who have either worked directly with him or were indelibly inspired by him. Bringing a personal component to the film, Ennio shares stories about his childhood and reminisces about wanting to be a doctor. It was his father who convinced him to study the trumpet instead. It's a scenario you don't hear too often, parents persuading their children's career path towards the arts over medicine. From there, we weave in and out of his repertoire, growing more awestruck with each passing film score.
The film itself is very traditional in its documentary format, fueled by sit-down interviews that bounce from subject to subject. The stories themselves are larger than the formulaic way in which they are told, which seems like a conscious choice by Giuseppe Tornatore to not let stylistic filmmaking choices get in the way of the heart and soul of the film. It's clear that this documentary has been in the works for a while; some interviews have a dated, public-access look to them that seems ripe for screening in a museum.
The descriptions given about Ennio Morricone range from "very serious" and "very absorbed" to "a genius" and "a marvel." Waxing poetic about their idol, some interviewees stated that "the God of music speaks through him as if he were possessed" and "His music is... eternal." Before his passing in 2020, Ennio finally won his long overdue Oscar for Quentin Tarantino's 2015 film, The Hateful Eight. At 87 years young in 2016, Ennio Morricone set a new record: the oldest recipient of an Academy Award, proving age is nothing but a number.
Ennio is now playing in Los Angeles at Laemmle Noho with a national expansion and home entertainment release to follow.
'Disconnect Me' Attempts a 30-Day Digital Detox
This is one detox that even Gwyneth Paltrow would have trouble completing. Director Alex Lykos makes a persuasive argument to cut ties with the invisible chains of your phone in his social issue documentary, Disconnect Me. Using himself as a guinea pig, Alex embarks on a 30-day experiment of being screen-free, although TV is allowed for sanity's sake. Considered by some a "necessary evil," our attachment to our iPhones has no doubt risen to unhealthy levels and Alex's attempt to break audiences of this technology's stronghold is an admirable one. However, I'll be the first to admit that as soon as the film ended, I opened up my phone to add this to my Letterboxd watchlist.
How else would a small, independent feature like Disconnect Me get any attention if the social channels that we access via phones and tablets were non-functional? Alex dually notes that while phones are more often than not a distraction in modern life, there is most definitely a time and a place for their existence. The film begins with a brief history of the iPhone and incorporates some staggering facts that had me on high alert. Disconnect Me states, through voiceover narration and simple graphics, that the average human touches their phone 2,600 times a day and averages over 6 hours of cumulative screen time. What's even more frightening, phones have reduced our attention span to 8 seconds, which is less than that of a goldfish.
Through Alex's 30-day experiment–which required his phone, laptop, and computer to be locked away in a safe, he felt the withdrawals of easy communication with his family more intensely than his desire to go on social media. He was stressed about missing important communications from his father or his wife and found that relying on an old-school rotary phone just wasn't cutting it.
Disconnect Me, which made its World Premiere at the 2024 Santa Barbara International Film Festival, has the very specific look of an MTV doc from the mid-2000s. It is not the most sophisticated in terms of style or production quality, but the story at the heart of the film is one worth celebrating. Interestingly, the film takes intentional pauses and asks audiences to scan a QR code answering various questions, like whether we believe smartphones should be banned in schools. It's a forward-thinking approach, albeit a little contradictory given the central message of the film.
It's no surprise to discover that there are negative physical and mental consequences of being preoccupied with a phone all day. The people Alex interviews confirm that their health and overall awareness dip when glued to their devices, and I'm sure in one way or another, every audience member can relate to this. Disconnect Me is a valiant exercise in exploring life outside of one's comfort zone, and it leaves a positive impact in its wake.
'The Arc of Oblivion': A Kooky Mediation on Impermanence
Two of the documentary world's most respected filmmakers, Werner Herzog and Kirsten Johnson, give their stamp of approval to Ian Cheney's expansive and rhetorical film The Arc of Oblivion. Lending their astute insights to this cinematic meditation on mindfulness, The Arc of Oblivion playfully explores the human desire for keepsakes amidst an ever-evolving world. Confronted by a question with a myriad of possible answers, Ian Cheney encourages audiences to ponder what from this world is worth saving or, even more profoundly, "Are we insane to imagine that anything can last?"
Film is a tangible medium that has been around since the Lumière brothers presented the Cinématographe in December 1895. Images are captured and stored on rolls of film or hard drives, accessible when needed. Through the medium of film, we can experience cultures, periods, and places beyond our wildest imagination. The thought of this portal getting erased is terrifying, both from an enjoyment perspective and a historical one. As a filmmaker himself, Ian has always had a fear of losing his life's work from one accidental deletion or natural disaster. In opposition to our need for preserving history, Planet Earth archives it by burying its dead, as seen in limestone layers, tree rings, and fossils. Is that the true order of how we should approach archiving– here one minute, and gone the next?
This train of thought sparks a chain of wild hypothetical theories about memories and the human desire to want to preserve a legacy. Ian draws comparisons, quite literally, to Noah from the Bible, asking what he would take with him on his arc if he existed in today's modern times. Wanting to experience this scenario from a very method perspective, Ian enlists help from his parents and neighbor to build a 10ft arc in his backyard, using wood he excavates from the neighboring forest. This act of building a backyard arc gets Ian thinking about the fragility of memories, how to cope with their impermanence, and the theory that nothing ever "goes away"– rather, that energy is placed elsewhere.
The Arc of Oblivion has a kookiness to it that feels fresh and unexplored. The incorporation of video art, stop-motion animation, interviews with top subjects (including Johnson and Herzog), and timelapse sequences gives this unconventional thought experiment a sharp edge that is both fun and poignant. Werner Herzog is the film's Executive Producer and he makes an appearance in the last 10 minutes, breaking the fourth wall in a way that feels exciting. He comments on the power of the word "Oblivion" in the film's title, calling it a blessing because we would be miserable if we remembered everything. The human mind needs to be able to forget, he states. He even goes so far as to let us in on a little secret: Herzog discards all of the unused footage that doesn't make it into his films. Never will you see an outtake, director's cut, or extended scene. If it's not in the film, it's deleted from existence.
Acting as a philosophical springboard into the discussion of a desire for permanence, The Arc of Oblivion begs us to question, in the nicest of ways, if we are beautifully insane in our efforts to continue to preserve memories, despite the natural order of disregarding them. It's a fascinating film that I hope remains in the public's consciousness for a long, long time.
'I Didn't See You There': A Vérité-Style Documentary on Disability
Winner of the 'U.S. Documentary: Directing' award at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival, Reid Davenport takes viewers on an intimate journey of self-reflection in his documentary I Didn't See You There. Reid is a disabled filmmaker who uses his strengths as a gifted storyteller to craft simplistic yet undeniably powerful commentary on society's perception of disabled people. At times the film can be difficult to watch as we witness the ignorant behavior of strangers toward Reid but those moments also serve as a compelling reminder of how much daily acts of kindness and generosity can positively impact someone.
I Didn't See You There is a vérité-style film that is fully shot from the perspective of Reid, who often rides in his motorized scooter to get from point A to point B. Using a camera mounted to his wheelchair gives audiences an unparalleled perspective on how he views the world, and how the world views him. From his vantage point, we encounter obstacles that most able-bodied commuters take for granted, like stepping over uneven cracks in the pavement or moving around cars that block the crosswalk.
Reid details his struggles to exist in a world that routinely fails to cater to his needs and gives us an uncompromising view of how society treats people with disabilities: spoiler alert, it's not great. This is not to imply that Reid considers himself a victim, in fact, quite the contrary. While visiting family, he doubles down on chasing his dreams of sustaining a career as a biographical filmmaker. His ambition far exceeds his physical restraints and he is not shy about expressing what's on his mind. With fearlessness and passion, Reid serves as an inspiration that ultimately leaves the film on an uplifting note.
What makes I Didn't See You There resonate so much isn't necessarily in the execution but the emotion it evokes (although it's sure to stir up feelings of compassion and awareness that audiences will carry with them long after the credits roll). Practically speaking, I'm curious about the decision not to use subtitles, as that would have been beneficial during some of the scenes that are difficult to understand. Overall, however, I Didn't See You There is a fascinating portrait by Reid Davenport that qualifies as essential viewing.
I Didn't See You There is coming to VOD on Tuesday, February 20th.
'The Space Race': A Revelatory Exploration of NASA’s Black Astronauts
From National Geographic Documentary Films comes The Space Race, a revelatory exploration into the historical accomplishments of Black NASA astronauts. Directed by Lisa Cortés (The Apollo, Little Richard) and Emmy-Award winner Diego Hurtado de Mendoza, The Space Race is a compelling portrait of the National heroes whose service, up until now, has been absent from mainstream history. Now streaming on Hulu and Disney+.
Space exploration wasn’t encouraged in ethnic communities back in the 1960s. The mindset that was birthed from racial segregation and discrimination was especially not welcoming to Black Americans looking to get into the scientific fields but that didn't stop Ed Dwight, Guion Bluford, Charles Bolden, and Victor Glover from pursuing their dreams of becoming astronauts. In an attempt to combat the social injustice at the time, President John F. Kennedy announced that Captain Edward Dwight would carry the title of the country's "First Negro Astronaut.” This news was met with both applause and criticism and, unfortunately, those who were skeptical that the optics were just smoke and mirrors were proved right. In the film, Captain Dwight frustratingly admits that he believes his hiring was for political and propaganda purposes, not moral progress. America needed a positive PR spin, and he was their chosen target.
Fast forward through decades and cultural strides, The Space Race uses archival footage and current-day interviews to show the side of history that wasn't written in textbooks. Special attention is dedicated to Ron McNair, the only Black astronaut aboard the Challenger Mission, who died along with six others when the spacecraft infamously exploded just seconds after takeoff. Regrettably, we will never know the full potential of his impact on future generations but despite his untimely passing, Ron is cited as an inspiration among his peers. Ron represented hope and ability for many people, specifically within the Black community.
The Space Race thrives when we hear the men reminisce in detail about their time spent in outer space. One describes Earth as being so small that his crew circled it every 90 minutes. Another speaks of his amazement to see the countries from that high, noting there were no lines or divides that we are accustomed to seeing on maps. If only everyone could co-exist with that mentality, that we are all equal and not bound to imaginary borders or tier systems. It's a message that extends far beyond space and one that will hopefully resonate with audiences to infinity and beyond.
This review originally ran on June 13, 2023, during the Tribeca Film Festival
'My Dead Dad': Honoring a Loved One with a Unique Sendoff
A daughter fulfills a very unique postmortem request from her father in the affecting short documentary, My Dead Dad. While the title alone may elicit the assumption that this is a somber film, directors Erik Osterholm and Abby Ellis capture the celebratory aspect of honoring a loved one, and the result is an unforgettable and touching reflection on individuality and commitment to family.
Christopher Gray was an eccentric man. A former streetscape journalist for the New York Times, Chris spent most of his time looking at old buildings in the city, usually trying to convince his daughter Olivia to accompany him. Before his untimely passing at just 66 years old, Chris had made it clear in his will that he didn't want a traditional burial or cremation. His dying wish was that his skeletal remains would be reassembled and displayed in his high school's science lab. Unconventional? Sure. Crazy? Absolutely, but that didn't stop Olivia from finding the joy and humor in following through with her late dad's final request.
The film begins at the point in the story when Olivia comes face to face, or rather, face to skull, with the skeletal remains of her dad propped up on a rolling tripod. Enlisting her aunt to accompany her, Olivia embarks on a road trip to bring her dad home, stopping at tourist spots to document the adventure with her dad one last time.
Running just 25 minutes long, My Dead Dad is a darkly comedic family drama that offers an unexpected outlook on how we view death. Olivia undergoes such a unique and uncommon experience with such grace, and the filmmaking team does a commendable job capturing this moment. The triumphant score is sure to spark an emotional flurry within the audience, as we're left to reflect on the relationships we have with the loved ones in our lives.
Kulanen Ikyo Debuts Track from Netflix's 'The Black Book'
The Nigerian film The Black Book made history when it was released on Netflix in late September 2023. Within two days, it quickly reached 5.6 million views and landed at #3 on Netflix's worldwide film charts. The success was music to composer Kulanen Ikyo's ears. Known for his creativity within the burgeoning Nigerian film industry, Kulanen's experimental score is the emotional heartbeat of the film. The 33-track album is available on Friday, February 9th, on digital platforms here.
The Black Book, which is currently streaming on Netflix, is a crime thriller that details the heroic actions of a father seeking revenge. After his son is framed for kidnapping, a former gang member turned religious deacon takes justice into his own hands by fighting a corrupt police force to avenge his innocent son. According to online reports, The Black Book's $1,000,000 production budget marks the largest amount ever spent on a Nollywood (aka the Nigerian Hollywood) film.
Cinemacy is excited to premiere “Greetings Mr. Paul” from The Black Book (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack), below:
In "Greetings Mr. Paul," Kulanen draws inspiration from his Nigerian roots, crafting bold cinematic soundscapes that incorporate both African musical traditions and symphonic elements. The track starts slow before transforming into the recognizable theme of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic." A smooth electric guitar plucks the notes of the anthemic song while the larger piece begins to swell with triumphant horns and drums. It's a powerful work that reflects the tension of the story and brings it to life in stunning detail.
Says Kulanen of working on the film, "As a composer, connecting with the production team to understand the vision is essential. The director's bold proclamation in a CNN interview and the cinematographer Yinka Edward's aspiration to scale up hinted at the need for grandeur. So, I aimed for a sound that matched the narrative's magnitude - big, with resonating percussion and brass. Delving into dark tones at times aligned with the film's trajectory while embracing emotional peaks became a pivotal part of the composition."
"Collaborating with [director] Editi Effiong was genuinely intriguing." he went on to say. "Editi's desire for emotionally charged moments and raw grit in specific scenes set the tone for our exploration. Composing the score for The Black Book was both challenging and exciting. We created a score that, hopefully, complements the film's storyline and resonates with viewers even after the movie ends."
Award-winning composer Kulanen Ikyo grew up in Nigeria and always knew he wanted to make music. He would find random objects around his house, like an empty can and a wood baton, and turn them into instruments. He earned a degree in physics from the University of Jos but continued on the path of film scoring, attending the Film Scoring Academy of Europe. His past work includes contributions to critically acclaimed films such as Lionheart and October 1, which earned him the Africa Magic Viewers Choice Award in 2015.
'Earth Protectors': An Environmental Artist's Rallying Cry
What a luxury it is to "believe" in climate change. As we see in director Anne de Carbuccia's social issue documentary Earth Protectors, this global crisis shouldn't be viewed as a choice to accept, but rather a genuine threat that can't be stopped unless we first acknowledge its existence. Using art as a vessel to show both the beauty and havoc that exists in our current climate, Earth Protectors is a call to action that begs us to pay attention to the very real cries of the planet.
Filmmaker, artist, and activist Anne de Carbuccia travels the world to capture the effects of man-made devastation on our natural habitats. She creates what she calls "time shrines" by photographing various props, like a skull and an hourglass, resting in various environments. The photographs are harrowing and bold, serving as a reminder of what we have to lose if we don't immediately attempt to put an end to climate change. While it's interesting to see the artistic process of creating these installations, the documentary's bigger focus is geared toward the local people and communities she meets along the way. As we follow Anne through different countries, terrains, and biospheres, we're introduced to people whose livelihoods depend on protecting the planet, and get a firsthand account of their heroic efforts and commitment to saving our natural resources.
Beautiful drone shots and wall-to-wall music aid in portraying the film's gigantic scope. From the top of the Himalayas to diving at the ocean's depth, the visuals that come out of Earth Protectors are breathtaking. Equally as stunning for starkly different reasons are the miles of deforestation and tons of trash that Anne and the various film subjects comment on. "Are we going to be remembered for trash?" is one heartbreaking sentiment expressed after confirming that 8-10 million tons of garbage enter the ocean every year. Although the statistics are bleak in many circumstances, interviews with various subjects, whom Anne calls the "Earth Protectors," inspire tangible action steps that offer optimism instead of pure existential dread.
Staying true to the ethos of the film, the carbon footprint of Earth Protectors was reduced by using a skeleton crew that included only vital roles required for filming. To further combat their environmental impact, the filmmakers also pledged to complete a reforestation project. Inspiring in both their execution and proactiveness, the team behind Earth Protectors has set a glowing precedent for future filmmakers to consider.
While the subject matter is not new as far as documentary filmmaking goes, Earth Protectors is a compelling and urgent call to action that deserves as big of an audience as possible. If you liked Nat Geo's The Territory, this film is for you.
'A Real Pain' Review: A Heartfelt Trip Through the Hurt We Feel
Among the films I saw at this year's Sundance Film Festival was the second feature film written and directed by Jesse Eisenberg. Humorous, heartfelt, emotionally honest and altogether moving, it was the best film I saw at the fest. It's called A Real Pain, which stars Eisenberg and newly-awarded Emmy winner Kieran Culkin as a pair of cousins who, following the death of their grandmother, travel to Poland to join a Holocaust tour. Seeing the historical sites of their family's history, they are given the chance to reconnect to their ancestry as well as with each other after time spent apart.
With eyeglasses and a general nervousness, David (Jesse Eisenberg) is introverted, anxious, and altogether cut off from his emotions. He's less than comfortable leaving his wife, child, and job behind to vacation with his free-spirited cousin Benji (Kieran Culkin), whose pajama pants and tousled hair reveal the responsibility-free life he lives.
After reconnecting at the airport, the cousins touch down at their first hotel in Poland (where Benji has already pre-shipped his large package of pot, which he consumes in small doses along the way. They join the rest of their travel group, along with their guide (excellently played by Will Sharp). Although the trip and stops along the way are all pre-planned, what is not as predictable are Benji's emotions, which David is surprised to see fluctuate wildly, from delightful to distraught.
Benji is reeling hard from his grandmother's passing, she being the "only one who understood him," as he shares with David. The group's daily activities visiting memorial sites and gravestones begin to bother Benji, ultimately pushing him past the brink where David and Benji are forced to acknowledge a troubling truth that lies between them, as well as confront the emotional distress they feel within themselves.
In part, A Real Pain is just a wonderfully made tour movie and will delight anyone looking to take a lovely-looking trip through the beautiful historic Polish city and countryside. The film is warmly shot, and montages set to Chopin's classical piano music (a smart inclusion, he being a Polish composer) create a calm, intimate peacefulness over this sacred ground.
On a deeper level, the film is an emotive exploration into the personal pain we all may experience, and the different ways we choose to feel, or not feel it. Eisenberg's directorial debut, 2022's When You Finish Saving the World, was a smart, sharply observed suburban comedy about a disconnected mother and son. But where that film was less inclined to dig deep into emotionally painful terrain, here, Eisenberg (an over thinker) bravely confronts emotions head-on. By portraying David (essentially an Eisenberg stand-in) as someone repressing emotion through medication and denial, along with Benji as the uninhibited but volatile opposite, we see the film's biggest statement: that choosing to address and express one's internal pain is necessary, however uncomfortable it may be.
Bringing these themes to life is the singular Kieran Culkin; the "mercurial sprite" who gives the film its magical ingredient. Culkin's charisma is so singular and spontaneous, making for scenes that are as hilarious as they are heartfelt. A scene in which the group tour stops for a photo in front of a set of WWII statues becomes an exercise in improvisational acting, in which Benji directs them to pose as each of the different military members, bringing an unexpectedly life-affirming moment to the group. Similarly, the fearlessly frenetic Kieran Culkin breathes life into a story that is made even better with his presence.
A Real Pain proves that Jesse Eisenberg should continue to not only make films but confront emotions head-on. Searchlight acquired it for $10 million (one of the higher buys from the fest), so audiences will be able to see this emotionally stirring life-affirming film, giving us the opportunity to process our own pain as well.
Sundance: 'Handling the Undead': This Supernatural Horror Nearly Flatlines
Norwegian director Thea Hvistendahl reunites former The Worst Person in the World co-stars in her feature-length directorial debut, Handling the Undead. Renate Reinsve and Anders Danielson Lie star in this visually bountiful character study that explores the liminal state between life and death. Adapted from the book of the same name by John Ajvide Lindqvist, Handling the Undead is an untraditional horror film that, unfortunately, never truly hits its stride due to prioritizing general aesthetics over character analysis.
It's summertime in Oslo, and three families go about their day as if it were any other. There is a palpable tension in the dynamic between Anna (Reinsve) and her father Mahler (Bjørn Sundquist), their coldness leads us to assume there are conversations that need to be hashed out but rather, have been avoided. In another part of town, David (Lie) and his wife Eva (Bahar Pars) prepare for a date night, leaving the kids at home for some alone time. The third simultaneous storyline we encounter is of Elisabet (Olga Damani), a single older woman who lives alone. All three families receive the shock of their lives when, unexpectedly, a supernatural event occurs and resurrects their deceased loved ones from the grave.
The supernatural horror is subtle and the reactions from those affected by the strange events are eerily quiet. It's not necessarily an awkward silence but more an act of restraint. This non-stereotypical outburst makes Handling the Undead feel more arthouse-leaning than traditional horror. Composer Peter Raeburn does a great job of filling the void with atmospheric tension in his sweeping, piercing score. Taking advantage of Oslo's beautiful landscapes and sense of organic surroundings, Handling the Undead is also a respite for the eyes. It's almost dreamlike in its ability to capture a specific mood, thanks to the phenomenal work of cinematographer Pål Ulvik Rokseth. His use of colors and shadow play adds further meaning to the bizarre situation that the three central families find themselves in, which they process with both skepticism and delusional happiness.
The film's weakness comes from the underdevelopment of every character's backstory prior to the day of the event. Seemingly an intentional dismissal by the director, it is difficult to contextualize the emotions of the characters throughout this traumatic experience because we don't know them, so we are left to assume too many things. Unfortunately, the lingering questions about who these characters are can distract from the artful construction of the world that Thea Hvistendahl has built through methodical camera movements and the strong, highly sensitive performances from the lead cast.
Despite the contextual deficiency, Handling the Undead excels in world-building. It leaves the viewer with a lingering sense of unease while artfully juxtaposing against visual beauty. Before its premiere at the Sundance Film Festival, NEON had acquired Handling the Undead and has set a theatrical release in Norway for Friday, February 8, 2024.
'Scrambled' Is a Fresh Comedy About Female Anxiety and Fertility
Now streaming on:
JustWatch
In the new comedy, Scrambled, multi-hyphenate Leah McKendrick takes the taboo out of fertility treatments. Poking fun at the pressure that single women in their mid-30s face from society to get married and start a family, Scrambled is a provocative and confident feminist film that puts the power back into the hands–or wombs–of women.
McKendrick (who also wrote and directed the film) plays Nellie, a single, 34-year-old recurring bridesmaid and aspiring celebrity jewelry designer who struggles with feelings of not-enoughness. She is at the age where all her friends are either getting married or pregnant or reaching some other traditional milestone that comes with a stereotypical relationship. Still wounded from a past breakup, Nellie's prospects in the love department are slim to none.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SZ3T3Yr6B54&ab_channel=LionsgateMovies
After a one-night stand goes wrong, Nellie considers freezing her eggs to take some of the pressure off of society's imaginary timeline for single ladies. Throughout her fertility treatment, which lasts roughly a couple of weeks, Nellie embarks on a chaotic journey through emotional peaks and valleys. What follows is a comically layered personal exploration of being single, including visits from ex-boyfriends of the past, putting on faux smiles during friends' baby showers, and barely surviving family dinners when her dad asks when he can expect grandchildren.
Leah McKendrick has been candid about how the themes of Scrambled were birthed from her real-life experience, which should give audiences an even more delicate lens through which to view the film. Addressing myths, taboos, and the "danger zone" of being a woman in her mid-thirties, McKendrick dodges societal expectations and creates a truly empowering film about developing a newborn sense of ownership over her bodily autonomy.
"I don't even know if I want kids! I've seen Euphoria," is one of Nellie's many sharp comebacks that give the film its adult cheekiness. The witty script paired with the magnetism of McKendrick's performance is a winning combination. So if you're sick of conventional films about fertility and want something original from the point of view of someone who's lived it, Scrambled is for you.
1h 37m. Rated R for sexual content, nudity, language throughout, and some drug use.
'Little Death' Review: A Pill-Popping, Manic Mash Up
I could not have prepared myself for the twist that comes midway through one of the most bizarrely made films I've ever seen at this year's Sundance Film Festival. The movie is called Little Death, and it follows a depressed, middle-aged screenwriter (played by David Schwimmer) living in LA whose midlife/artistic/existential crisis makes for an unbalanced, disjointed experience.
We see that he's a screenwriter who is grappling with "selling out," having made his success from a brainless TV sitcom back in the day (the parallel to Schwimmer's actual life feels pointed). He's now going through the agony of trying to get his very personal and very non-commercial project made with that earlier work hanging over his head. The stress of countless dead ends and empty promises within a smarmy, soulless industry weighs heavily on his fragile mental state.
We hear his aggravated rants against the entertainment industry, and today's modern living on the whole, in a series of darkly comical voiceovers (making me think of Tyler Durden's rants in Fight Club). These delusional voiceovers narrate over wild–and I mean wild–computer-generated AI art, which illustrates his depraved fantasies and declining mental state. We also realize that all of this could be the effects of the medication he's relying on to battle his depression and live his life.
Without giving anything away, it's around this point that a mid-movie climax ensues, and we're suddenly following the late-night journey of two pill-addicted kids played by Dominic Fike (Euphoria) and Talia Rider (Never Rarely Sometimes Always, and this year's The Sweet East). This whole other storyline takes us on a dangerously wild nighttime adventure that they try to survive, stemming from the unsuccessful scoring of pills (which made me think of what a very different version of Superbad could have been like).
Related: 'The Sweet East': Welcome to the United States of Anarchy
Now, I was highly anticipating watching this film (being a fan of David Schwimmer) and had fairly high hopes for this movie. But I'll be honest, I was already not loving the first half of the film. And when it took its abrupt turn into an even less interesting, more painful second act, I was quite ready to leave the film behind.
Little Death is the directorial debut of Jack Begert, a music video director who has worked with Kendrick Lamar, Olivia Rodrigo, and James Blake, to name a few. Begert attempts the very ambitious idea of making and connecting two quite different types of stories to try to make something that comes together full circle in a larger way. But it's an attempt that doesn't work at a basic enjoyment level.
Now, I will say that Begert's creative swing is a big one. Experimenting and challenging the form is integral to cinema so that storytelling can evolve (and it's great that Sundance continues to foster this type of artistry). At the very least, Begert is making a statement about some pretty important topics in today's culture: depression, addiction, and overly-prescribed medication which are necessary conversations to have.
Little Death was in part produced by Darren Aronofsky, who similarly explored drug addiction with the painfully visceral Requiem for a Dream. But Little Death is a tonal mess and really could have benefited from Aronofsky giving Begert some notes in the editing room. While the film awaits distribution, it would benefit by having some much-needed cuts lest it suffer a quiet death of its own when it releases.
'Daughters' Review: Finding Joy in the Face of Heartbreak
A Father-Daughter dance is a rite of passage for many young girls. I remember my first dance, a cowboy-themed event sponsored by my Brownie troop. I may have only been five or six years old, but that special memory has stuck with me all these years later. In co-directors Natalie Rae and Angela Patton's touching documentary Daughters, four young girls reunite with their incarcerated fathers as they prepare for their first Daddy-Daughter Dance, held in the gymnasium of a Washington, D.C., jail. As a viewer, be prepared to feel a wide range of emotions, from compassion and joy to heartbreak and sorrow. Daughters is a sentimental love letter to the irreplaceable bond between parent and child.
Daughters is a tenderly told observational film that follows 5-year-old Aubrey, 10-year-old Santana, 11-year-old Ja'Ana, and 15-year-old Raziah as they navigate the complex emotions of meeting their absentee fathers, face to face, for the first time in years. The "Date with Dad" program, conceived by co-director Angela Patton, has been established to connect incarcerated men with their children and allow these fathers the opportunity to re-commit their loyalty, love, and long-term devotion to their families. The men who participate in this program commit to a 10-week program, led by a life coach who specializes in fatherhood counseling. Over those 10 weeks, while their daughters are simultaneously anticipating this reunification, the men learn about the importance of stability in a child's life, and the "Date with Dad" event gives them a first step in fostering a brand new relationship.

Everyone who participates in this documentary, which took over eight years to complete, deserves recognition for putting their vulnerability on full display. There are many moments throughout the film that will have you reaching for tissues, a few standouts for me include when the men trade their jumpsuits for dress suits, and relying on the older inmates to teach them how to tie a tie. Outside the prison walls, the young girls get their nails done and slip into princess-like dresses, some even embellished with little tiaras. Of course, the dance and the countdown toward saying goodbye were so emotional that I almost had to pause and collect myself. It will be a rare audience member who can get through these poignant father-daughter scenes with a dry eye.
Rae, an award-winning director with a focus on women’s rights, and Patton, the CEO of Girls For A Change, are the momentum behind capturing the Daddy Daughter Dance as they navigate this unique and intimate experience with respect and compassion. The four girls who are at the center of the film handle themselves with an empathetic maturity that is both admirable and astonishing to witness. They are wise beyond their years, some more skeptical about their father's promises, but one thing they have in common is the hope that this is the start of a life-changing evolution and that one day soon, their fathers will come home.
Shot in cinema vérité style, Daughters is a devastatingly poignant film about the importance of commitment within a family, even when the odds are stacked against you. It reveals a bittersweet reality that many families experience, complete with dynamic emotions and a quiet optimism, reminding us that love can prevail from prison walls. Daughters won both the Festival Favorite Award and the U.S. Documentary Audience Award at the 2024 Sundance Film Festival.















