8 AM Metro
The butterfly effect is such a fascinating phenomenon to consider. Imagine, one small decision has the potential to impact your future and send you down a path toward success, failure, or somewhere in between. Every day, we gamble with fate without even knowing it. The outcome of one of these "happy accidents" can be seen in director Raj Rachakonda's film, 8 AM Metro, which tells a bittersweet story about how a chance encounter ends up saving the lives of two people who had been secretly struggling.
8 AM Metro opens with Iravati (Saiyami Kher), a 29-year-old housewife who has been away from her family while taking care of her pregnant sister. Even though her trip is only a couple of weeks long, she misses her husband and two children and looks forward to returning to her familiar routine.
Another reason why she longs for the comfort of home is that while she's been in this new city, she has had to confront her irrational fear of riding the train. Facing this phobia head-on and alone has been challenging, Iravati is constantly on the brink of panic attacks and fainting spells. That is, until she meets a kind stranger, Preetam (Gulshan Devaiah). Preetam calms her down, immediately establishing trust with his willingness and ability to help and her acceptance of support.
Iravati and Preetam go on to develop a platonic relationship, in which they discuss their families, fears, and struggles. “What do people think about moments before suicide?” one asks, while the other engages in conversation about the "lonely funeral project." Their discourse is predominately heavy and much of the film harkens back to talk about anxiety, depression, and intrusive thoughts.
However, there is a lightness that comes from the characters' shared interest in poetry. As writers and readers of the art form, the characters use poetry to express things that would otherwise be difficult to say. Although for Preetam, he continues to hide a secret that threatens to unravel his newly-formed relationship with Iravati and push him even closer to the brink.
Written by Shruti Bhatnagar, Asad Hussain, and Raj Rachakonda, the story is visceral and dark but poignant in all the right places. “We often remember relationships from the last few moments we spend together,” whispers Preetam to Iravati during one of their afternoons together. The subtext is also strong as we sense the characters waver between the lure of remaining platonic to becoming more than friends.
While the dialogue intermittently switches between English and Hindi, the closed captions are unfortunately so tiny that they were almost illegible. At times during non-English moments, they drop out altogether. So unless you speak Hindi, it's difficult to understand what’s going on in those stretches.
Bringing audiences back into the world of the film are the original songs by composer Mark Robin. Upbeat music and poetic lyrics set against sweeping montages give the film a space to breathe and decompress from the heaviness of the subject matter in other scenes.
It's been said that people pass like ships in the night, and this sentiment is true in the sweet, affecting 8 AM Metro. Sometimes people who make the biggest impact in one's life are those we barely know. Although the film could have trimmed about 20 minutes out, 8 AM Metro is a valiant effort at showing how a simple act of kindness has the power to change someone's life.
Bhagwan Bharose
Indian director Shiladitya Bora shares a message of optimism in the spiritual coming-of-age film, Bhagwan Bharose (For Heaven’s Sake). Set in a rural yet vibrant village in 1980s India, this independent film leads with heart and uses the resources it has to its highest potential. This is a story about asking tough questions, challenging long-held beliefs, and ensuring future generations have a clear and safe path toward the future.
Bhagwan Bharose tells the story of two young boys navigating a rocky road on their journey of faith, leading to poignant questions and deeply moving revelations. Bhola (Satendra Soni) and Shambhu (Sparsh Suman) engage in a modest lifestyle. They attend a faith-based school, fly kites competitively and participate in religious activities with their parents. A shake-up occurs when a television is introduced into the village, as they have been without outside influence since birth. Although Western advances are foreign to the boys, they readily adapt to this progressive change and are drawn to the possibilities that await them from the TV screen.
From here, the film relies on religious parables to propel the story forward. “Do not commit sin” is a reoccurring message, as is “God is the reason for everything.” Bhagwan Bharose isn't subtle in the nods to scripture–perhaps too heavy-handed for audiences who don’t consider themselves religious–but the intentions are good. There is a moment when a science vs religion debate plays out between the boys’ school teacher and Bhola. “How can anything hang in the air?”, exclaims Bhola when questioning the fact that the Earth revolves around the sun. The boys must not have gotten to the chapter on gravity yet.
Despite a mild lack of urgency in the pacing of the edit, Bhagwan Bharose is a warm film that may appeal more to the religious crowd than mainstream audiences. There is humor sprinkled throughout, such as when a monkey disrupts the electricity connection to the television set. This humor is balanced by somber moments too, including violence and death that stuns the community.
The devastating effects of violence, especially among children, is the important message director Shiladitya Bora hopes will resonate with audiences. The closing lines of the film are something that we can all agree upon, despite one’s religious affiliation. Atheist, Christian, Hindu, etc., the message is a universal one that we are left to ponder:
“Communal violence results in many deaths around the world.
Children are robbed of their childhoods, displaced, and abandoned by loved ones.
Children are the future, they deserve protection and safety.”
Ariel Marx Premieres Track From NEON's 'Sanctuary'
Composer Ariel Marx is dominating the film industry. Since the last time we spoke during the 2021 Sundance Film Festival (on behalf of her documentary Rebel Hearts), I've seen her name pop up in the credits section more and more frequently, proving herself to be the latest composer in demand for both the big and small screen.
You might've heard her score in the ABC series A Small Light or Hulu's Candy (which was ranked #3 in Indiewire’s Best TV scores of 2022). Or in one of my favorite indie films of the last five years, Utopia’s Shiva Baby. Most recently, and arguably garnering the most eyeballs and eardrums on any film to date, Marx lends her genre-bending arsenal of sounds to NEON's erotic thriller, Sanctuary.
Sanctuary, directed by film critic-turned-filmmaker Zachary Wigon, is a risque dark comedy that follows a dominatrix (Margaret Qualley) and her wealthy client (Christopher Abbott) as they engage in a high-stakes role-playing game for power and control. The psychological thriller (which premiered at the 2022 Toronto International Film Festival) tells a highly contentious story about exposing skeletons buried deep in one's closet.
In the wake of inheriting his father’s hotel chain, Hal (Abbott) attempts to end his long and secret relationship with Rebecca (Qualley). A battle of wills ensues throughout one incredibly fraught night, with both Rebecca and Hal struggling to keep the upper hand as the power dynamics swing wildly back and forth.
Cinemacy is excited to premiere “She's In Control Now”, from NEON's Sanctuary, below:
The juxtaposition between the film's raunchy storyline and the wholesome nature of the score creates friction that feels cheeky in all the right ways. Using strings and wind instruments gives the film an old-school persona that sounds like a counterpart to a romance film from the 40s.
Says Marx of her creative process, "Writing the score for Sanctuary was delightfully like living in a twisted, romantic fever dream. It was a composer’s playground — the music somersaults between comedy, romance, horror, and erotic thriller. Many thanks to Zach Wigon, Micah Bloomberg, David Lancaster, and Stephanie Wilcox for encouraging such a bold score."
Proving to be an industry mainstay, Marx's ability to combine orchestral and rare instruments with electronics makes her sound unique. An eclectic composer and multi-instrumentalist, Ariel Marx is a member of the music branch of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, the Television Academy, and is a Sundance Film Music and Sound Design Lab alumn. In addition to scoring to picture, she is also a solo artist, having recently released her solo album "Luthier" with Node Records.
Lakeshore Records is releasing the ‘Sanctuary’ Original Motion Picture Soundtrack on Friday, May 26th.
‘Sanctuary’ is now playing in theaters everywhere.
Master Gardener
Many ecosystems benefit from controlled fires. The act of burning to rebuild is a natural phenomenon that has occurred for thousands of years; even though it may look counterintuitive from the outside, what we view as destruction is actually a chance for regrowth and expansion. Visionary writer-director Paul Schrader takes the theme of rebirth to challenging depths in his latest film Master Gardener, a meditative study on shedding the skin of the past in an attempt at full-bodied metamorphosis.
Joel Edgerton takes the lead as Narvel Roth, a skilled horticulturist who oversees the abundance of foliage at the historic Gracewood Gardens. Narvel takes his work very seriously; his demeanor while holding a flower is as stoic and measured as if he was handling a hand grenade. His employer, Mrs. Haverhill (Sigourney Weaver), admires Narvel’s commitment to her garden and expresses her gratitude freely, oftentimes physically. Mrs. Haverhill knows she can get Narvel to willfully bend to her demands and so, one day, she informs him that her great-niece Maya (Quintessa Swindell) will be his new apprentice. Narvel, begrudgingly, accepts.
When Maya arrives at Gracewood Gardens, her presence is initially seen in opposition to Marvel and his small team of fellow horticulturists. Maya has no experience but seems receptive to learning the trade. Narvel knows that Maya is only under his supervision because of Mrs. Haverhill’s attempt to keep her off the streets and away from the crowd she’s currently caught up in, so he cuts her some slack. As the days become easier for both Narvel and Maya, their relationship grows into an unexpected entanglement of feelings, desires, and secrets.
Suppressed violence is at the root of Paul Schrader’s drama, making for a rich juxtaposition between the beauty of the present and the darkness of the past. Narvel’s current rehabilitated image may be one of gentleness and care but his previous dealing as a white supremacist hitman is never far from the surface. The film’s tension comes from the growing love story between Narvel and Maya, a black woman. He can only conceal his swastika-bearing tattoos for so long, and his growing existential crisis threatens to blow up his newly-curated life, his relationship with Maya, and his future.
For all of the film’s darker themes, Master Gardener emits a vibrant frequency through the cinematography and the score. We dip into surrealism for a moment in the film’s third act, and the visuals draw parallels to the whimsicalness of Disney’s Fantasia. Set to hypnotic synth-forward melodies from Devonté Hynes, who also performs as Blood Orange, the soundtrack is also the perfect moody supplement to an already tense film. The score works well as a standalone piece too (which I listened to while writing this review - you can too, here).
Ultimately, Master Gardener is a story about a man’s search for redemption. Thematically, Schrader doesn’t stray far from his last two films, The Card Counter and First Reformed (the latter of which made my top 10 list in 2017), so fans or critics can expect as much from his “man in the room” storyline here. It's not a lighthearted affair, but the heftiness is not without incredibly powerful performances and breathtaking views of the natural world.
Distributed by Magnolia Pictures. Now playing in select theaters.
The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the Future
An eco-conscious folklore bathed in surrealism, The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the Future is an ambitious exploration of relationships with things beyond the material world. Director Francisca Alegría crafts a story rich in imagery and topical urgency in this bold feature debut. It's a lot to digest, but the payoff is completely worth it.
The film takes place in southern Chile, an area overrun by pollution and water contamination. Thousands of fish have turned up dead in the river, so it's shocking to see a woman emerge from the deadly waters. As she makes her way from the river and into the small town, she catches the eye of an older man. When he spots her, he immediately gets overcome with emotion. He believes this is Magdalena (Mia Maestro), his deceased wife who killed herself in a mysterious suicide decades ago.
This revelation frightens his daughter, Cecilia (Leonor Varela), a grown woman herself. She, her two children, and her brother all return to their hometown to be by their dad's side while he recovers from his shock. Could this really be their resurrected mother, back from the dead? Cecilia doesn't believe this theory until she comes face to face with Magdalena herself in the woods. Magdalena is quiet–silent throughout the entirety of the film, in fact– but conveys her message through her expression. Cecilia can't deny her mother's presence now, but one big question remains: why is Magdalena here?
The Cow Who Sang A Song Into The Future is, at its core, a simple story about life and death, both literally and figuratively. Cecilia's oldest child, born Tomás, now identifies as a woman. The figurative death of her son is something that Cecilia grapples with, not able to accept her true identity at the onset. The resurrection of Magdalena is like Mother Nature in human form who descends from the ethereal world to draw attention to the local factory that is killing fish and contaminating the water, which puts all humans and animals at risk.
One of the standout characteristics of the film is the use of music; specifically, the lyrics that accompany the haunting melody. The bass drum beats like a heartbeat, and a choir of voices sings about returning to Earth after death. It's equal parts haunting and beautiful and expertly fills in the gaps between scenes.
Unlike some environmental films that aim to shock or scare viewers into action, The Cow Who Sang A Song Into The Future acts as a gentle reminder that if we continue to live selfishly, our planet, environment, and our lives will feel the repercussions. Most importantly, though, it's not too late to reverse some of the damage that's already been done.
This review originally ran on February 11, 2022, during the Sundance Film Festival.
Distributed by Kino Lorber. Opening at the Landmark Nuart in Los Angeles this Friday, May 26, 2023.
The Night of the 12th
It’s no secret that true crime is one of the most popular themes in the “entertainment” space. All too often in this current landscape, one person’s tragedy is turned into cultural fodder that we devour weekly in the form of podcasts and TV shows, sitting through a plethora of advertisements to get our “whodunnit” fix. What is it about true crime that is so appealing? Is it our innate voyeuristic nature, or our fascination with death and its permanence? Audiences are left to wrestle with those complex rhetorical questions in French director Dominik Moll’s layered crime drama, The Night of the 12th (La Nuit du 12).
Clara Royer (Lula Cotton-Frapier) is heading home after a night out with friends when she is confronted by a stranger on a dimly lit street. Masked and unrecognizable, he calls Clara by name – catching her off guard – before dousing her in gasoline and throwing a lighter in her face. Head and torso ablaze, she runs a short distance before collapsing onto the street and is left to die. The graphic nature of the crime is a shock to the community, especially the police department. Even though they are used to dealing with the sad reality of death every day, it never gets easier to tell the family of a loved one that they have passed.
From the very beginning, Clara’s case feels strangely unique and the deeper investigators dig into her background, the more obsessed they become. Police captain Yohan Vivès (Bastien Bouillon) begins to spiral after initial leads become dead ends. After speaking with Clara's best friend and uncovering dark truths about her past, Clara's sexual history becomes his North Star. The film toes the line between being concerned and shaming Clara’s past actions. A pattern quickly emerges that every suspect on the police’s radar has slept with Clara rather recently, more than one being an illicit affair.
Yohan becomes fixated on this fact, and his personal feelings toward the matter seep into his professional actions. The evidence is right in front of him, and at the same time, isn’t there at all. No matter how strong his intuition is, it cannot compete with physical evidence – or lack thereof. Clara’s killer roams free, and that haunts Yohan to no end.
The Night of the 12th is ominous and dark both in subject matter and visual aesthetic. Setting the film in the mountainous French commune of Saint-Jean-de-Maurienne has a baked-in sense of isolation that feels both idyllic and anxiety-inducing. Composer Olivier Margueri’s score offers a beautiful mix of buoyancy sprinkled with melancholy. At times reminiscent of the French pop scene he used to frequent as a musician, Margueri uses soft vocal melodies and luxuriant arrangements to give the film a sense of cautious optimism.
Filmmaker Dominik Moll combines elements of documentary and fiction in The Night of the 12th, adapting a book from writer Pauline Guéna, who spent a year immersed in the Versailles Criminal Investigation Department. Her book, “18.3 - une année à la PJ” (18.3 - A Year With the Crime Squad) is the source of inspiration for the film. An official selection of the 2022 Cannes Film Festival, The Night of the 12th is a tough film to swallow but an equally important story to digest.
Distributed by Film Movement. Playing at NYC’s Quad Cinema this Friday, May 19, 2023, followed by additional markets including Los Angeles, Seattle, St. Louis, and Pittsburgh.
Giving Birth to a Butterfly
Theodore Schaefer’s debut feature Giving Birth to a Butterfly takes an artful approach when it comes to the classic American trope of shedding one's limiting preconceived notions and reclaiming a new sense of self–much like how a monarch emerges from its cocoon as a completely changed animal. In a cinematically surreal story of identity, two women from very different backgrounds embark on a road trip that ends up sending one down the road less traveled and ends up changing her life forever.
Diana (Annie Parisse) is getting the bare minimum of enjoyment out of daily life. As the mother of two kids, she is responsible for a lot of the housework and continuously gets affected when her husband (Paul Sparks), overly optimistic to a fault, unintentionally steamrolls her and her feelings. The night their son returns home with his pregnant girlfriend, Marlene (Gus Birney), Diana is at her breaking point–only to be pushed over the edge when she discovers that she's been the target of identity theft and her bank account is wiped clean.
Determined to track down the thieves, Diana convinces a heavily pregnant Marlene to come with her on this revenge road trip. The objective may have initially been to confront the criminals but by the time the duo reach their destination and discover whose doorstep they've landed on, their initial plans go out the window, and instead, they start a new, unexpected journey towards enlightenment. By the end of the film, only one woman has given birth; not to a human, but to a belief.
Schaefer, the executive producer of We're All Going to the World's Fair, gives the film a pastel-toned hue, perhaps to signify a type of "rose-colored glasses" from our protagonist. The decision to shoot on 16mm film with intimate framing forces the audience to have a sort of tunnel vision perspective, at times it can feel claustrophobic but given the small scope of the production, this choice makes sense. A bit soap opera-esque at times, Giving Birth to a Butterfly has a solid nugget of wisdom buried within but unfortunately, that can get lost amongst its various filters and seemingly unnecessary stylistic choices.
This review originally ran on August 24, 2021, during Fantasia Fest.
Distributed by Cinedigm. Now streaming on Fandor, the company’s indie discovery platform, and VOD.
BlackBerry
From director Matt Johnson comes BlackBerry, a fictionalized story inspired by real people and events leading up to the uncharted success and ugly demise of the world’s first smartphone.
In the early 2000s, the BlackBerry was a symbol of status. Lindsay Lohan and Paris Hilton would carry their Swarovski-covered accessories to and from Hollywood’s most exclusive clubs, and teenage girls everywhere (*raises hand) subconsciously equated this bedazzled phone to power. A device that you could call, text, and check your email? It was a cultural revolution. Running 124 minutes long, we’re treated to revisionist history’s version of BlackBerry’s ripe rise and sour fall.
The year is 1996. Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel) and Douglas Fregin (Matt Johnson) are on their way to pitch the latest invention born out of their small Canadian-run business, Research in Motion. The men are on a mission – a deal with a corporate big shot would mean financial security and technological advancements the world has never seen.
Unfortunately, their dreams seem even further out of reach after stumbling their way through the presentation for their "computer-in-a-phone" device in front of businessman Jim Balsillie (Glenn Howerton). Jim is a fast talker and brutally honest straight shooter and barely acknowledges the men, even as they speak directly to him. Jim has too much to do and too little time and he makes that known.
Deeming the pitch a disaster, Mike and Doug begin to feel the prongs of desperation grip their bodies. Everything changes when, after a moment of clarity, Jim returns with a counteroffer that would take the company and the device to the next level. What ensues is a Wolf of Wall Street-type ebb and flow of nerdy engineers who fell into an influx of cash and don’t know what to do with the newfound success.
Mike has always been the most level-headed of the group and keeps one foot rooted in reality but not Jim. If he’s not trying to buy a professional hockey team, he’s unethically trying to poach employees from competitive companies or letting personal grievances get in the way of the health of the company. The final nail in the coffin comes during Apple’s keynote address when Steve Jobs (using archived footage from a real event) introduces the world to the first iPhone. Game over.
Now, the reason why you should see this film: Glenn Howerton.
Director Matt Johnson, who also co-stars in the film, creates a thoroughly engaging, high-stakes comedic adaptation from his inspiration source: the book “Losing the Signal: The Untold Story Behind the Extraordinary Rise and Spectacular Fall of Blackberry”. BlackBerry is shot in a style that’s similar to The Office. It's not a faux-documentary but the loose, handheld camerawork gives BlackBerry a breathy nature that contrasts the corporate world we’re living in. The film’s soundtrack further sets the mood and takes us down memory lane, with tracks from Joy Division, The White Stripes, and The Strokes to name a few.
Now, the reason why you should see this film: Glenn Howerton. His performance as a manic, loud-mouthed, egomaniac is entirely pitch-perfect and hilarious. His comedic fingerprints are all over this film in the best way possible; anyone acting alongside him is automatically elevated to his level. The energy that radiates from this film probably equates to a double shot of espresso.
BlackBerry was an official selection of the 2023 SXSW Film Festival and is distributed by IFC Films. If you ever wondered about the evolution of the smartphone and how it landed into the palms of people everywhere, or just looking for a smart, comedic gut punch, this is for you.
124 minutes. Opening in select theaters on Friday, May 12, 2023.