Stunning Eco-Thriller 'The Territory' Shows A Devastating Reality
This review originally ran on January 26, 2022, during the Sundance Film Festival
Where to watch: The Territory opens this Friday at the Laemmle Monica Film Center and AMC Burbank 16
Director Alex Pritz is a name you should familiarize yourself with because his film, The Territory, is one that you'll be hearing about throughout the year (it is, hands down, the strongest entry I've seen so far at this year's Sundance Film Festival). Equal parts heart-wrenching and poignant, The Territory uncovers the horrible reality and unjust hardships faced by the indigenous Uru-eu-wau-wau tribe as they fight to save their livelihood deep within the Brazilian rainforest.
The level of access that Pritz has within the tribe is paramount to telling their story. The bond of trust between the Western film crew and indigenous people is deeply felt, as evidenced by how emotionally invested we become throughout the film.
When we first meet the Uru-eu-wau-wau community, they are desperate for help. The recent public support of land-grabbing by right-wing politician President Jair Bolsonaro puts their land, their homes, and their livelihood at risk of complete collapse. Deforestation at the hands of non-Native Brazilians, who equally feel as if they have a right to claim the land for their own endeavors, is proving to have environmentally and politically devastating results.
Helping represent the Uru-eu-wau-wau community in their fight for protection is environmental activist Neidinha. Her strength is unwavering, even when faced with death threats targeted at her and her daughter. Neidinha acts as a team of one serving one purpose: preserve the rainforest to keep the Uru-eu-wau-wau community safe.
Like any good investigative work, we're also given a countering perspective on the territory debate by a man who claims the land is his livelihood, too. Sergio is a farmer who dreams of owning and operating his own plot of land. His intentions are good, he plays by the rules, but that can't be said for everyone he associates with in his newly formed fraternity called "The Association of Indigent Farmers." While Sergio understands the territory divide, other men brazenly encroach into Uru-eu-wau-wau territory, setting fire to the wildlife without care or concern.
Co-produced by the Uru-eu-wau-wau community (and Darren Aronofsky, among others), The Territory is a masterful output from all involved. Staying true to Alex Pritz's participatory filmmaking model, he literally gives cameras to members in the tribe to document their experience on the frontlines, which he edits into his own footage. It's this unique, otherwise unattainable, point of view that gives the film its power, never once feeling exploitive or overdramatized.
The most powerful weapon here is the camera. Both Pritz and the Uru-eu-wau-wau community agree that the government's failure to intervene early on has caused irrevocable damage, and it is up to them to get their story told. The media attention from this story has already started to create a buzz in their native Brazil–as seen in the film–but the struggle is far from over.
The Territory, which was acquired by National Geographic during the festival, is an urgent call to action and the least we can do to raise awareness about this ongoing, deadly conflict is to talk about it, recommend it, and watch it. The future of the Uru-eu-wau-wau community, and the natural world, depends on it.
86 min.
In 'Ali & Ava,' Lonely Hearts Seek Love
This review originally ran on September 23, 2021 during TIFF.
I first became aware of acclaimed English director Clio Barnard Barnard after I saw her debut narrative feature The Selfish Giant at AFI FEST in 2013. In fact, I considered it to be the breakout film of the festival that year. Her latest film, Ali & Ava, is a cinematic epiphany of what Barnard does best. A working-class, middle-aged love story birthed from loneliness, Ali & Ava brings dynamic visuals, a fiery soundtrack, and an outsider's perspective on life to the big screen.
Related: 'The Selfish Giant' Review: Clio Barnard’s First Film is a Powerhouse
The film is set in a small community in England where Ali (Adeel Akhtar) and Ava (Claire Rushbrook) co-exist. Ali is a British Pakistani small-time landlord whose connections he forges with his tenets fill the void in his life where his failing marriage used to be. Ava, a single mother of five, is a teacher at the local children's school where she feels the most fulfilled since her relationship with her adult children is strained, leaving her maternal instincts in shambles. Both with a sense of longing for something more, Ali and Ava strike up a friendship after their paths cross serendipitously.
First bonding over their passion for (and extremely different tastes in) music–Ali loves the Buzzcocks, Ava prefers Bob Dylan– the lionhearted duo's connection grows deeper the more time they spend together. Both warm and sensitive people, Ali and Ava become more comfortable in expressing their most vulnerable thoughts with each other. This quickly leads both to develop strong feelings for one another, but emotionally complex and traumatic hurdles prove difficult to navigate as they pursue a romantic relationship.
As soon as I saw the opening shot of Ali & Ava, I knew this film was something special. The vibrancy, the pulsating beat, and the erratic dancing all culminated into such a powerful visual that I literally haven't stopped thinking about days later. Quite similar to how Monos has been imprinted into my brain since 2019. Stunning cinematography by Ole Bratt Birkeland and an energizing soundtrack (shoutout to Sylvan Esso's "Radio") portray a realistic depiction of two lonely English folks who just want to be seen. Supported by the fiercely affecting performances from Adeel and Claire, Ali & Ava is a truly special and untraditional love story.
'Resurrection': Rebecca Hall Unravels in Unsettling, Gripping Thriller
There are films that claim to be "heady psychodramas," but as soon as the title credits roll, warrant little more than an apathetic shrug. Then there are films that sneak up on you, drowning you in total cinematic dread and unease. Andrew Semans's Resurrection, starring Rebecca Hall, is the latter.
If you're looking for a movie that will give you more than the creeps and leave you shaken by the tour-de-force performances from its lead actors, then keep Resurrection on your radar.
Margaret (Rebecca Hall) is a biotech professional and single mother, and clearly has an anxious attachment to her daughter Abbie (Grace Kaufman). Margaret insists that it's just typical motherly concern, but staunchly independent Abbie is still annoyed. However, when Margaret's former partner David (Tim Roth) unexpectedly reappears in her life two decades after their last meeting, her increasing paranoia immediately disrupts her and her daughter's lives.
Why is David here? What does he want? Resurrection doesn't make these things immediately clear. The film turns into a brutal game of cat and mouse, and handheld camera movements heighten the intensity.
We soon find that Margaret isn't entirely innocent here, though. In fact, she's not the most redeemable of protagonists once we learn of David's backstory and her involvement in it. Her decision to withhold her lifelong secrets from her daughter causes confusion and growing resentment. Further, hiding this ongoing threat from her co-workers derails her performance at work. Keeping this secret is causing Margaret to slowly unravel into a pile of anxiety and fear, and Rebecca Hall does a soul-shattering job of conveying Margaret's out-of-control insanity.
The more Resurrection builds, the more David's history of physical and psychological torture is also revealed, further adding to the overall suspense. He turns into a narcissistic, controlling blackmailer right before our eyes–but this behavior is something that Margaret knew all along.
Director Andrew Semans doesn't let the audience off easy, though. The ending is both completely unhinged and totally satisfying. Resurrection is reminiscent of Titane in a myriad of ways (including its score by composer Jim Williams who recently worked on Ducournau's body horror film). But also, for reasons of unexpected (inhuman) life forms that may play a role in the story.
Dark, deranged, and wildly surreal, Resurrection is a stunning psychological thriller that lingers. Backed by gripping performances by Hall and Roth–whose dynamic is unmatched–this is one film that will be hard to shake.
'Resurrection' was acquired by IFC Films and Shudder during the Sundance Film Festival.
Kristine Froseth Lets Loose in Lena Dunham's 'Sharp Stick'
This review originally ran on January 23, 2022 during the Sundance Film Festival
It's been eleven years since Lena Dunham's directorial debut, Tiny Furniture, premiered at the Sundance Film Festival. Fans of the Girls star know that Dunham has a knack for speaking the language of "angsty (entitled?) young women" so fluently; whether or you not sympathize with their problems aside, there's no denying that Dunham's characters are constantly trying to evolve from helpless girl to independent woman. It's fitting, then, that she's back at Sundance over a decade later with Sharp Stick, a more mature coming of age story that places agency on female sexual empowerment, but still includes her signature splash of young person's angst.
Sharp Stick takes place in Los Angeles during the pandemic, although those two points aren't completely relevant to the story. Kristine Froseth plays Sarah Jo, an overly modest and reserved 26-year-old with the emotional intelligence of a girl half her age. Sarah Jo is a "good girl" to a fault, her naivety makes her feel out of place, even in the home that she shares with her overly blunt mother (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and attention-seeking sister (Taylour Paige). Sarah Jo is respected for her maturity and thrives in her role as a special needs caretaker for her young client and his family, working mother Heather (Dunham) and her immature husband Josh (Jon Bernthal) who acts like an aged-out TikToker.
Sarah Jo may be naive but she isn't devoid of feeling, and the growing question of what she's missing out on when it comes to sexual experiences comes to a boil almost overnight. In a bold move that, quite frankly, doesn't come across as honest or believable in the slightest, our pure protagonist boldly throws herself at Josh and starts confessing that she wants him to take her virginity. What gave her the confidence all of a sudden to share her deepest darkest insecurities with this man? That's not entirely clear. Perhaps it's the lack of stable men in her life or her biological father, who's MIA. In any case, Josh ruins any shred of trust when he agrees to have sex with her (without protection, too). Both consenting to the act, neither one could have imagined what the aftermath of this decision would bring: Sarah Jo turns into an out of control, sexually obsessed submissive who quite literally wants to do everything from A (anal) to X (xenophilia).
Kristine Froseth is fully in control of Sarah Jo's budding physical exploration, her transformation taking place almost entirely from within. Her sexual liberation goes from 0-100 in over 24 hours, and while it might be hard to believe that she becomes infatuated with a porn star and signs up as a member on the website "Clitty Clitty Bang Bang," Froseth does an admirable job playing vulnerable. Jon Bernthal can't make Josh redeemable, but he's a good character to laugh at if you don't mind the second-hand embarrassment.
For as progressive and bold as Sharp Stick is, however, it's ultimately a clunky and disorienting watch that lacks a strong finale and clear takeaway. Sarah Jo's stunted maturity and arrested development make for a sympathetic character arc, but her payoff feels shortchanged. Does being sexually liberated actually make her feel more confident as a woman, or is she really just searching for acknowledgment and reassurance that she is seen, and using sex is the quickest way to get that fix?
There are some great moments sprinkled in throughout the awkward ones though, specifically the kitchen scene where Heather tries holding it together as an overworked mother, the repeating action of Sarah Jo eating big spoonfuls of vanilla yogurt (foreshadowing a more graphic act later), and the energizing soundtrack that ends on Shuga's "Stay Wild." What's also worth mentioning is the special thanks section that reads like a who's who of celebrity friends, including Taylor Swift, Zoe Kravitz, and her husband (and Sharp Stick's composer) Luis Felber. It won't be everyone's taste, but sex-positive Sharp Stick certainly will resonate with the built-in Dunham fanbase.
Distributed by Utopia. 86 minutes.
In theaters Friday, July 29th. Expands to theaters nationwide on Friday, August 5th. Available on Digital platforms August 16th.
Enis Rotthoff Shares Track From 'The Good Neighbor'
Composer Enis Rotthoff (Guns Akimbo, The Sunlit Night) is on his way to becoming one of the leading voices in the German film scoring scene. His blend of classic orchestral arrangements mixed with progressive electronics provides a unique and layered approach to how he tells a story through sound. In his latest work, Enis lends his talents to the psychological thriller The Good Neighbor, directed by Stephan Rick (The Dark Side of the Moon).
Starring Golden Globe Award winner Jonathan Rhys Meyers (The Tudors, Dracula) and Luke Kleintank (Midway, The Man in the High Castle), The Good Neighbor unfolds during a horrific evening for neighbors David (Kleintank) and Robert (Meyers) when they accidentally hit a woman on her bike with their car and flee the scene. While David is increasingly plagued by feelings of guilt, Robert shows no remorse and becomes overbearing and possessive. When David meets Vanessa (Eloise Smyth), the victim's sister, he submits to a reckless passion and underlying sense of redemption before realizing Robert will do unspeakable things to protect their secret.
Cinemacy is proud to premiere “Welcome to Riga” from The Good Neighbor, below:
Injecting retro electronic sounds with a classical 42-piece string ensemble, and showcasing solo cellist Marianna Pleszkan, the score for The Good Neighbor – specifically "Welcome to Riga" – mirrors the film's more nuanced emotional arcs. "We wanted to get into the characters' heads and musically support the development of the story as well," says Enis. "The different themes and musical atmospheres helped us structure that experience."
Named a Sundance Composers Lab Fellow in 2007, Enis has also done work for small ensembles, bigger electronic works, and large scale orchestral pieces that include both rare and electronic instruments. He has collaborated and recorded with some of the finest European Orchestras and Soloists. He has composed the music for many feature films in the US and in Europe, including Silver Tongues, Free Willy- Escape from Pirates Cove, The White Orchid, A Quiet Love, The Price, and Stereo.
Scoring Records International is releasing The Good Neighbor (Original Motion Picture Soundtrack) on Friday, July 22nd
'A Love Song' is a Subtle, Spectacular Meditation on Aloneness
This review originally ran on January 23, 2022 during the Sundance Film Festival
There's a difference between being alone and being lonely. The experience of being alone is a physical one and can be solved by calling a loved one or just sitting in a coffee shop, surrounded by strangers. However, the feeling of loneliness is one that hurts the deepest, usually leaving you to contemplate how you've found yourself in this situation. It's also true that you can feel both lonely and alone at the same time, perhaps the most isolating experience a human can endure. Writer/director Max Walker-Silverman points his lens at this human fragility in the beautifully meditative drama, A Love Song.
At first glance, the film's American West aesthetic and lone female protagonist echoes the 2021 Academy Award Best Picture winner Nomadland. It feels true that these stories could exist in the same timeline, but after absorbing everything the 81-minute runtime has to offer, A Love Song makes Nomadland feel hallow. A Love Song is absolutely incredible.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TDIqS-p1hJs
Dale Dickey gives an unforgettable performance as Faye, a nomad and widower, who has been eagerly anticipating a visit from her childhood boyfriend Lito (Wes Studi). Living out of her camper van next to the lake, she spends her days listening to the sounds of the birds–identifying them by their distinct chirping–fishing for crawfish, and listening to country tunes on the radio. The sounds of nature soothe her mind, grounding her back to the earth when the thoughts of reconnecting with another person begin to feel overwhelming. Faye doesn't even speak until about 10 minutes into the film.
Lito, himself a widower as well, arrives at Faye's campsite and it's not long before their small talk and pleasantries turn into gentle reminiscing about the people they were when they first meet, many decades ago. They comment on how much everything – the environment and themselves included–has changed since they last saw each other.
When you reach a certain age, you get to a point where you stop living for others and start living for yourself–authentically and honestly. At this stage in their lives, Faye and Lito have outgrown the need to impress and have adopted a "what you see is what you get" approach to life, which is quite refreshing to witness. It's honest, and pure, and leaves no room for regrets.
A Love Song is a bit misleading, though. Its title alone leads one to believe that this is a romance about two people falling (back) in love with each other, when in fact, that's not entirely true. Director Max Walker-Silverman crafts a love story about falling in love with yourself and your life, regardless of how unconventional and not according to plan you find yourself in any given moment.
Birthed from the film's natural purity is the sentiment that it's never too late to start living the life you want. A moment of happiness is more important than a lifetime of regret, so take the chance! Risk it all! Because as Faye so eloquently says, with this line that will haunt me for the rest of my life, "However long you get, that's long enough."
81 minutes.
'Living Wine' Gets to the Root of Organic Winemaking
Where to watch: Living Wine is releasing in theaters and watch now @ home virtual cinema on Friday, July 15, 2022
One of my favorite staycations is escaping to Temecula aka Southern California's wine country. The atmosphere, the ambiance, the chardonnay... it's hard to think of a better way to spend a long weekend. It never ceases to amaze me that the wine I'm drinking during those intimate tastings was once a small grape growing in a vineyard right outside the tasting room walls. The circle of life is really something beautiful. This sentiment–and sediment (sorry, wine joke)–is explored in the new documentary, Living Wine.
Living Wine, directed by novice filmmaker and wine enthusiast Lori Miller, is both an homage to the act of organic winemaking as well as an environmental documentary that highlights the risk our vineyards face today, including global warming, increasing wildfires, and unending drought. One thing that Miller wants to make clear is not all wine is created equal. Just because it grows in the ground doesn't mean it's organic. Calling on experience from winemakers Megan Bell of Margins Wine, Gideon Beinstock & Saron Rice of Clos Saron, Darek Trowbridge of Old World Winery and experts Elizabeth Candelario (Mad Agriculture) and Dr. Timothy LaSalle (Center for Regenerative Agriculture), Living Wine is an eye-opening journey into what it takes to go from vineyard to glass and everything in between.
The natural wine movement is about 20 years behind the natural food movement in terms of cultural awareness and accessibility. The subjects in the film passionately discuss their organic grape farming methods, which vary greatly from the methods of more conventional winemakers. Synthetic fertilizer and pesticide use are some of the biggest distinctions between what makes a wine conventional or organic. It's actually quite shocking to learn that less than 1% of the wine produced in California is all-natural, meaning that most of the wine we drink is full of additives and manipulation of flavors.
So the next time you're tempted to pick up a bottle of Decoy in grocery stores because you like the duck logo, remember that the little bit of extra effort it takes to acquire a bottle of natural wine is well worth the investment. The environment, your health, and your wine-drinking buddies will thank you.
Fire of Love
This review originally ran on January 21, 2022 during the Sundance Film Festival.
Where to Watch: Fire of Love is now playing at AMC Sunset 5
"This is Katia. This is Maurice... tomorrow will be their last day." Making its World Premiere in the U.S. Documentary competition at this year's Sundance Film Festival is Fire of Love, the incredible true story of a couple whose passion for chasing danger eventually caught up with them, but whose legacy made a lasting impact on their tight-knit community.
In an effort to show the world the strength and beauty of the misunderstood natural phenomena of volcanoes, wife and husband Katia and Maurice Krafft routinely put themselves in the path of danger. One day, they inadvertently found themselves caught in the middle of an unexpected volcanic eruption.
Although their love story ended too soon and their contribution to the scientific community feels incomplete, what they did leave behind is hundreds of hours of in-depth and deep archival footage, which director Sara Dosa weaves together fervently to create a sweeping portrait of two people passionately in love with science, nature, and each other.
"Have you ever loved something so much, you would sacrifice your life for it?" We're left to contemplate this stirring hypothetical question as we're led through the vividly rich life of French scientists Katia and Maurice Krafft. Voiceover narration is provided by filmmaker and performance artist Miranda July, who so sensitively captures the couple's self-proclaimed "outsider" and "weirdo" personas. From their first meeting in 1966 to the very last image before their untimely death in 1991, the common thread throughout Fire of Love is the Krafft's commitment to curiosity and exploration, which overrode any sense of fear.
Katia and Maurice documented volcanoes from all over the world, capturing some of the most breathtaking images in the process. Dressed like extras from Wes Anderson's The Life Aquatic in light blue onesies and red beanies, Katia and Maurice are as goofy as they are brilliant, and were as close to soul mates as you can get (if you believe in that sort of thing). Their shared passion to educate the world on these natural wonders enabled life-saving research. It would prove to be bittersweet, as that same unwavering passion and fascination with danger ultimately led to their deaths.
In telling the Krafft's story, director Sara Dosa took inspiration from French new wave films with fun and light-hearted editing techniques (Dosa makes volcanoes and science fun!). Aesthetically, Fire of Love looks like it was pulled from a time capsule from the 70s with its retro fonts and text color, and it totally works.
If Katia and Maurice were alive today, I'd imagine they would be absolutely humbled by the attention this documentary will bring to their life's work. It encapsulates everything they sacrificed their lives for: an unfiltered look at the unmatched beauty of volcanoes and the mineral world, and how connecting with the earth can help us connect with each other, too.
93 minutes.