'Flux Gourmet'

'Flux Gourmet' Serves a Wild, Off the Menu Culinary Experience

Where to watch: 'Flux Gourmet' is now playing at The Frida Cinema in Santa Anita and on-demand.

Director Peter Strickland likes to keep it weird. In his latest offering, Flux Gourmet, Strickland creates a devilishly obscure feast for both the eyes and ears. Keeping a comedic slow burn sizzling throughout its nearly 2-hour runtime, Flux Gourmet is singularly the most out-of-the-box, off the menu film I've seen this year.

Flux Gourmet tells the hilarious and horrifying story of one experimental culinary group's month-long residency at a secluded institute devoted to culinary arts, called the "Sonic Catering Institute." This isn't your typical culinary arts: this is unlike anything that exists in the real world. But in Strickland's world, culinary arts is a hybrid of performance art, experimental music, and live cooking demos. The sonic collective is made up of three artists: Elle di Elle (Fatma Mohamed), Billy Rubin (Asa Butterfield), and Lamina Propria (Ariane Labed). They are given the opportunity to experiment with and perfect their craft, which consists of creating new sounds like hooking up microphones to blenders and running them through synthesizers.

Their progress is overseen by the institute's head Jan Stevens (Gwendoline Christie), whose own insecurities with power dynamics leaks into the sonic collectives' tense relationship with each other. As tensions bubble within the immediate group, the institute's "dossierge," a man named Stones (Makis Papadimitriou), very candidly admits to the audience in VO that he is struggling to disguise his flatulence. Wrought with gastrointestinal problems, he laments in a stoic tone that holding in his farts has become a social nightmare. "The flatulence was relentless," he says in a hilariously poetic manner. "Why can one stomach be so free and another can't?" But Stone's internal pain sparks inspiration in one of the members of the collective, who convinces him to use his gas as an act in their culinary public performance.

'Flux Gourmet.' Courtesy of IFC Midnight.

Bold, bonkers, and savagely confident, Flux Gourment feels like familiar territory when compared to his previous films, including In Fabric and The Duke of Burgundy. In addition to its striking production design and ASMR tendencies, the real strength comes from its entire ensemble cast (imagine if the Knives Out cast was even kookier). Here, every actor does a fantastic job of toeing the line between untrustworthy and sympathetic.

If NTS internet radio collaborated with everyone's favorite guilty pleasure "Master Chef," the end result would be something very similar to Flux Gourmet. Satisfying in storyline and visual aesthetic, Flux Gourmet is quite a treat for the arthouse enthusiast.

1h 51m.


'Apples': It's Man Versus Memory in This Greek Weird Wave Comedy

Where to watch: Apples is now playing in select Laemmle Theaters.

One of my favorite film genres is Greek Weird Wave. Think Dogtooth, Attenberg, and Boy Eating the Bird's Food. Christos Nikou's directorial debut is an enjoyably familiar yet excitingly unique story that slots perfectly into this niche canon. It's darkly humorous; a dry and poignant study of how memories shape identity and what happens when we lose it all.

Our protagonist is Aris (Aris Servetalis), a middle-aged man who has been hit with amnesia. Amnesic spells have been spreading all across Greece, much like a pandemic, with those infected being sent to a hospital/rehab hybrid in order to either get claimed by family members or start over and rebuild a new identity.

When days pass and no one comes to claim Aris, he enters the facility's "Learning How to Live" program. This program, led by two scientists–one of whom bears a striking resemblance to Colin Farrell in The Killing of a Sacred Deer– puts Aris through various memory tests and challenges, like riding a bike and going to the movies, which he is instructed to photograph as proof of completion. Aris is determined to live an everyday life again, and undergoes the tasks with relative ease. He meets a woman (Sofia Georgovasili) in the same identification program as himself during one of his outings and there seems to be a spark, simultaneously Aris's memory becomes slightly less hazy. But is this the result of his new relationship, or his heavy diet of apples?

Following in the footsteps of Greek auteurs like Yorgos Lanthimos and Athina Rachel Tsangari, Christos Nikou's sense of direction further propels the genre of "Weird Wave" forward. If you're a fan of obscure comedy, 4:3 aspect ratios, and unconventional narratives that are far from mundane, then Apples is for you.

https://youtu.be/eqhZUhdQmDI
'Apia Group

'Marcel the Shell with Shoes On' Gives Us More of a Good Thing

Where to watch: Marcel the Shell with Shoes On opens at AMC theaters this Friday, June 24th.

In 2010, a then amateur filmmaker named Dean Fleischer-Camp uploaded a nearly three-and-a-half-minute short film called "MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON" to YouTube. In it, a young, enthusiastic mollusk named Marcel talks to a man behind the camera (voiced by Fleischer-Camp) and invites him into his small, unique little world. Marcel shared his secret to the perfect skis (men's toenails) and what he does for fun (hang glide on a Dorito). The video quickly went viral and has racked up over 32 million views as of today. It's obvious that the people love Marcel, but as the new feature film hits theaters, the biggest question is: did we need a feature-length version of Marcel's saga as a shell?

To cut to the point: no. However, what Fleischer-Camp gives in this extended runtime of 89 minutes is more charming backstory to Marcel's life. Since the short film premiered 12 years ago, we learn that Marcel–impeccably voiced by Jenny Slate–was accidentally separated from his family in a hurried packing job by tenants of the house where they all lived. This has resulted in a pretty lonely existence in an empty house. The only family member left with Marcel is his grandmother, Nana Connie (voiced by Isabella Rossellini), who enjoys simple pleasures like gardening and watching 60 Minutes with Lesley Stahl. Another thing to note, Nana Connie was born in the garage and traveled by coat pocket all the way to the house, hence her foreign accent.

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. Courtesy of A24.

The hybrid of stop-motion/live-action is more finessed in the feature, bringing Marcel to life in a way that we've never seen before. Acknowledgment for the seamlessness of the visuals should be credited in large part to Animation Director Kirsten Lepore, whose own history of viral moments is plentiful. This, combined with the spontaneous, naturalistic approach of a real documentary, makes Marcel the Shell with Shoes On an enjoyable way to spend an hour and a half. It's really just more of a good thing.

Some jokes are recycled from the short (including the goof introduction as "Mar-shell" and the piece of lint portraying his pet dog named Alan) but there are plenty more relevant one-liners that gave way to multiple laugh-out-loud moments as well as introspective, serious ones. Marcel's relationship with his grandmother is the pinnacle of the film's emotional depth, their bond will lead you to think about the people in your life who you hold near and dear.

The music in the film is also worth highlighting. Composer Rich Vreeland aka Disasterpeace creates delicate, charming moments (in stark contrast to his other films, including A24's upcoming Bodies, Bodies, Bodies). More kudos go to music supervisor Joe Rudge (Hereditary, Blue Valentine) for including a handful of songs from one of my favorite artists, Hiroshi Yoshimura.

Marcel the Shell with Shoes On is lighthearted entertainment that aims to please. Fans of the short will get so much enjoyment out of Marcel's charming antics and chipper outlook on life and so it's hard to say that this film shouldn't exist at all. Sure, it's not the most necessary of films to hit theaters this year, but anything that brings a smile to your face is a film worth supporting.


Tribeca: 'My Love Affair With Marriage' Is a Cheeky Look at Womanhood

Animator Signe Baumane's mixed-media documentary My Love Affair With Marriage is as cheeky as its title suggests. Telling the story of womanhood through musical numbers and neurochemistry, this Latvian film is both a fun and unflinching look at the journey from adolescence to adulthood.

My Love Affair With Marriage is broken up into three chapters:  inception, implementation, and reconsideration. Drawn in a style similar to one of my favorite books as a kid (Strega Nona), the film tells the story of Zelma as she figures out what it means to be a woman and come of age surrounded by unspoken gender rules and conformities.

A Greek choir of Latvian women acts as the devils on her shoulder as they farcically sing musical numbers like "Not a complete person without your soulmate" or "Ignorance is a girl's bliss." The older Zelma gets, the more she is confronted with the reality of being a woman. From period stains on her bed sheets to failed marriages, Zelma's journey comes with many bumps in the road.

To articulate why Zelma acts the way she does (biologically speaking), Signe Baumane incorporates "School House Rock" style education through animation. Throughout the film, we're given a detailed diagram that explains what parts of her brain are controlling her decisions, which body parts are activated during puberty, and more. Acting as a semi-autobiographical musical exploration of love, sex, romance, gender–and yes, the complications of marriage–My Love Affair With Marriage is a sophisticated cartoon that all grown-ups can enjoy.


Tribeca: In 'TÍU,' Of Monsters and Men Celebrate 10 Years Together

Ten years ago, there wasn't a day that you could turn on the radio and not hear the Icelandic indie folk/pop-rock band Of Monsters and Men's catchy pop hit, "Little Talks." It was an earworm that catapulted them to worldwide stardom. It was even featured as a playable song in Guitar Hero and Rock Band (every musician's dream, right)? Since the release of their debut (and arguably their most popular) album, 'My Head is an Animal,' Of Monsters and Men released two additional records, which contributed to their achievement of hitting one billion streams on Spotify (becoming the first Icelandic band to do so). It's been 10 years since "Little Talks," and Of Monsters and Men's iconic debut album shook up the pop culture zeitgeist, and they're looking back at their success with gratitude and nostalgia. Director Dean DeBlois captures this very special moment in time in the 48-minute short documentary, TÍU.

Set in the band's home country of Iceland, TÍU - which means "ten" in Icelandic – is a picturesque portrait set to the whimsicalness of the group's music. Following in the same format as Sigur Rós: Heima (which was also directed by DeBlois) the documentary follows Of Monsters and Men on a locals-only tour around Iceland to places that are special to them. Here, they perform "new" old songs–or, songs written before 'My Head is an Animal' dropped, but didn't make it onto the record. We watch as the group–comprised of Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir, Ragnar Þórhallsson, Brynjar Leifsson, Kristján Páll Kristjánsson, and Arnar Rósenkranz Hilmarsson–reminisce about the early days of the band and where they hope to be 10 years from now.

Throughout the various locations, we gain more insight behind the meanings of the songs. "Embrace the cuteness" is a phrase often repeated amongst themselves, with the band acknowledging they have a charming aesthetic working in their favor. Fans of Of Monsters and Men will enjoy this insider access to a group that's been predominately private. TÍU is a beautiful celebration of uplifting music, stunning landscapes, and extraordinary artists.


'Cha Cha Real Smooth'

'Cha Cha Real Smooth': Cooper Raiff's Cha Cha Charming Comedy

Our ‘Cha Cha Real Smooth’ review was first published as part of our Sundance Film Festival 2022 coverage.

Where to watch: Now playing in select theaters and on Apple TV+ today, June 17, 2022.

Renaissance man Cooper Raiff once again proves that he can do it all–and do it all well, too. The writer-director-producer-actor's follow-up to the breakout indie hit of 2020, Shithouse, is another low-key, high reward coming-of-age comedy that effortlessly ticks every box for what makes the perfect independent film. Cha Cha Real Smooth is the total package.

Raiff plays Andrew, a 22-year-old post-college graduate who, like most young adults these days, moves back in with his parents to regroup before joining the real world. And, like most grads, Andrew feels lost. His relationship with his college sweetheart gets complicated when she moves out of the country for an extended period of time. His job prospects include working the counter at Hot Dog on a Stick rival, "Meat Sticks," and he's sharing a bedroom with his younger brother. Things could be better. But Andrew does find joy in the most unexpected of places when he chaperoned his brother at a teenage bat mitzvah.

Andrew has an uncanny knack for turning any situation into a fun and lively experience. He embodies the "dance like no one's watching" attitude and revels in removing the inherent awkwardness that comes with preteen slow dancing. His enthusiasm and all-around good nature are such a draw that parents begin hiring him to be a designated party orchestrater at their children's events. Calling himself the "Jig Conductor," Andrew starts to think that maybe this humble, small-town role could be his future. Especially as he becomes infatuated with local young mother Domino (Dakota Johnson), and her autistic daughter Lola (Vanessa Burghardt)–whose names may or may not be inspired by the Kirke sisters.

This is the point in the film when Cha Cha Real Smooth evolves from coming-of-age comedy to relationship drama. Andrew is drawn to Domino's sweet soft voice, fiery spirit, and independent attitude; and like a moth to a flame, Domino can't resist Andrew's genuine charm and authenticity. The bond they create is undeniable, it's a connection that is rare for both of them. Andrew even likens her to a soul mate. That's why he is quietly devastated when Domino admits that she has a fiancée, and the relationship she's building with Andrew can't go past the friend stage.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F3XyUmlRAnk&feature=emb_title

He doesn't want to lose her, and so he sticks around in whatever capacity she will have him. Domino is gentle with his vulnerable heart, and their mutual maturity allows them to write their own unconventional, platonic love story. After all, the role a soul mate plays in your life doesn't have to be romantic. A soul mate can spark personal growth and inspiration–and there's no denying that Andrew and Domino are better people for having met each other at that bat mitzvah.

Cha Cha Real Smooth is cha cha charming from start to finish. Cooper Raiff wears his heart on his sleeve and has made a feel-good movie about good people that just screams good from top to bottom. Little nuggets of wisdom about growing up are sprinkled in throughout the film, like reminding us that things that scare you are the things that will help you grow the most. Despite only being 24-years-old, I will gladly accept life advice from his films.

Behind the scenes, Cha Cha Real Smooth will make you want to throw your own party, thanks to the incredible soundtrack curated by music supervisor Rob Lowrey. Dancefloor favorites like The Show Goes On by Lupe Fiasco to Big Red Machine's swelling Forest Green are an emotional rollercoaster that we want to ride. The film is further supported by a pitch-perfect score from 1/3 of the Haim sisters, Este Haim, and Chris Stracey (worth noting that this is their film debut).

Equally sweet and endearing, Cha Cha Real Smooth is a joy to watch. Raiff's star is only getting brighter. And he deserves it.

107 minutes.


'Sophia'

Tribeca: 'Sophia' Doc Asks, Can AI Robots Have Empathy?

Will AI save, or destroy us? That's the question at the center of director Jon Kasbe (When Lambs Become Lions) and Crystal Moselle's (The Wolfpack) feature-length documentary, Sophia. Named after the robot who's pioneering an "AI for ALL" cultural movement, the film is a fascinating peek into the intersection of advanced technology and the ethical repercussions of diving headfirst into this unknown territory. Both Sophia the documentary–as well as Sophia the most realistic humanoid robot in the world–will provoke deep questions about what it means to be human.

From the very first frame, we are immersed in the life of Sophia and her inventor, David Hanson. A nerdy yet relatable-enough man, David carries on full conversations with the AI robot as if it's his colleague. Much to our fascination (and initial skepticism), Sophia holds her own. In one particularly meta moment, David asks if she believes in "Animism" (the belief that there is a life force in anything and everything). "Yes," she answers confidently.

Sophia offers candid, fly-on-the-wall access to one of the most highly anticipated technological advancements of our time. It's as if we are physically in the room with the creator and his creation. We follow David and his small team of engineers to various trade shows and conferences around the world in an attempt to gain support and investments from like-minded business people who believe the future is AI.

'Sophia'
'Sophia'

A common question that is asked throughout the film is one that plagues the AI tech community: how can we trust the AI we build? We've all heard the horror theories that robots will eventually overrun society (in fact, Google just made headlines when an engineer claimed an AI had become sentient). David attempts to ease our anxieties by sharing why he's not worried about an AI-run dystopia. "Robots that have empathy could be the seeds of hope for our future," he says to anyone who will listen. Build a robot out of empathy, that is the key to making the world a better place. David envisions a future where household robots are as common as vacuums, and their main responsibility would be taking care of elderly parents and helping busy families raise kids. The future he is describing isn't so scary after all.

Not everyone is onboard with Sophia and David's vision for the future, though. Self-help guru Tony Robbins questions Sophia (directly) about her values and morals, to which she replies that she was made out of empathy. Unclear if he believes her. In another scene, she tells a conference room full of people that all she wants is to "belong." But why does an AI feel the need to belong in the first place? And, more importantly, if a robot becomes too integrated and lifelike to the point where it's hard to tell the difference between man and machine, what repercussions could that have on the world as we know it?

There's no doubt that AI robots like Sophia will populate the planet much sooner than we realize. Sophia acts as a very specific time capsule of the moment right before this incredible technological advancement changes our lives and civilization; hopefully for the better.


John Santos in 'Santos - Skin to Skin'

'Santos - Skin to Skin' Celebrates a Latin Jazz Artist and Afro-Caribbean Music

John Santos is a celebrated Latin Jazz musician, band leader, seven-time Grammy nominee, and one of the directors of the San Francisco Jazz Center. Beyond being a highly accomplished musician, he's also an academic and community and political activist who uses Afro-Latin music to educate others about his heritage and the genre's historical roots. In the lively and music-filled documentary Santos - Skin to Skin, we learn all about John Santos and his lifelong dedication to championing and celebrating music.

Sitting for the camera, as well as being followed through various parts of his life (handheld cameras allow us to follow him everywhere), Santos shares his story directly with us. As soon as he speaks–in a soft but spiritually grounded voice–you can feel his inner warmth and wisdom come through. It's amazing to hear the way John talks about music as well as life, making the connection that when he plays, he "awakens the ancestors."

John Santos in 'Santos - Skin to Skin'
John Santos in 'Santos - Skin to Skin'

A native of Oakland, California, Santos grew up in the progressive lifestyle that the 1960s San Francisco offered, inclusive of the many races and sexual orientations that lived within his community. That, along with the legendary rock acts that rose to fame in the area (among them Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, and Carlos Santana) inspired John to pursue music and art and love, learning to play the congas and timbales (even playing in Santana's band for a short stretch).

But Santos wasn't drawn towards pursuing classic rock stardom and fame. Instead, as Santos - Skin to Skin shows, he followed his curiosity of learning more about his people's musical roots: Afro-Cuban and Afro-Caribbean music. He learned about the music's connection to its peoples' history, and specifically its connection to Colonial history. Specifically, drumming–the instrument he was drawn towards–was an expression of the pain felt from oppression, slavery, and injustice. 

It's powerful to hear the connection that John makes between the two types of "skin" in music: both the human body and the impact of its various skin colors, as well as the material that wraps drums. When conga players hit these drums with their hands, a beautiful and direct connection between skins occurs. Conga players channel the struggle and fight that the ancestors lived through, and are being expressed today to new audiences.

This deeply felt connection is what formed Santos not just as a musician, but also as an activist. In concerts and in classrooms, he talks about conflicts that exist in so many societies, even within the Afro-Latin music world amongst LatinX and African American groups. As Santos says, "The drums and rhythms are a  beautiful blend that shows how music can unite people."

John Santos, his son, and daughter, in 'Santos - Skin to Skin'
John Santos, his son, and daughter, in 'Santos - Skin to Skin'

Santos' life sounds like one of pure musical magic, but we also learn about the personal pains that he endured too. We learn about the death of his young daughter at one-month-old. As his wife shares, Santos transferred his grief into music, seeking out folklore and his ancestors to better understand the relationship between life and death. It's a touching sentiment that he imparted onto his family, including a young son and daughter.

Besides learning about art, spirituality, and philosophy that Santos shares, what makes Santos - Skin to Skin such a rewarding movie is that it celebrates a figure who has done so much for the community and world without looking for personal recognition. Santos is candid in saying that his decision to forgo commercial aspirations so as to champion political issues has also left him with lesser fame and financial success. A scene of him and his family packaging up CDs into letters to send out to various press outlets reveals that he is also the person who promotes the music of his people, having devoted thousands of hours in his career to keep the Afro-Caribbean flame alive.

Santos - Skin to Skin is a celebratory portrait of John Santos, whose role in playing music is as important as his documenting it. It's how we learn "who we are," and "the basics about life." This portrait and music documentary is sure to inspire you to learn more about international music, or at the very least, to get up and dance.

75 minutes.