In 'On the Count of Three,' Suicidal Pals Take One Last Joy Ride
Our ‘On the Count of Three’ review was first published as part of our Sundance Film Festival 2021 coverage.
Where to watch: ‘On the Count of Three’ opens this Friday, May 13th in select theaters.
Stand-up comedian Jerrod Carmichael isn't afraid to get dark and dirty in the director's chair and on-screen in his filmmaking debut On the Count of Three. Playing opposite a Robert Pattinson in Good Time-looking Christopher Abbott, the film is a tightly packaged character study that tackles sensitive subjects like mental health and suicidal thoughts while remaining slightly absurd and, at times, darkly humorous.
The responsibilities of being a "best friend" can have different meanings for different people. To Val (Carmichael), it means helping Kevin (Christopher Abbott) break out of an involuntary hold at a mental institution and create a suicide pact that would put them both out of their misery forever. It's definitely a notch above wearing matching heart-shaped necklaces. Intrigued by the idea, and just relieved to escape another day playing checkers with a schizophrenic, Kevin obliges, and the two make their getaway to end their lives.
Just as the boys are about to pull the trigger on each other, Kevin panics as he realizes that he wants a couple more hours to wrap up unfinished business in his personal life. Val agrees, and a "Save The Date" for their double suicide is set for later that night. Their last joyride is anything but joyous.
Blasting Papa Roach's Last Resort, Val and Kevin leave a trail of destruction in their wake as they visit people from their past to either make amends or kick their ass, there is no in-between. Comforted by knowing there are no repercussions for a dead person, their actions become increasingly outrageous and careless. But it's not long until Val gets disillusioned with the idea of death and starts second-guessing his own suicide pact.
With its Thelma & Louise-like shenanigans mixed with the graphicness of a David Cronenberg film, On The Count of Three is bold. It has its funny moments but don't be fooled, this film is somber as hell. Mental health issues, childhood trauma, and walking depression are just some of the heavy themes that are woven throughout.
The cinematography by Marshall Adams captures the despair and struggle the boys are feeling. Low angle shots reminiscent of a Yorgos Lanthimos picture give the feeling of uneasiness, an off-balance dynamic between actor and audience, and we can only watch and wait for the other shoe to drop. The close-ups are also profound because it was the first time I noticed Christopher Abbott has freckles.
Aided by a beautiful score from composer and frequent Arcade Fire collaborator Owen Pallett, On the Count of Three is an existential bromance that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end.
1h 26m. Distributed by Annapurna Pictures.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q7KFDgTySuM
'The End of Medicine' Investigates Link Between Disease and Animal Consumption
Where to watch: 'The End of Medicine' is available on VOD May 10th.
While Joaquin Phoenix and Rooney Mara have starred in many movies together, they've now teamed up to make a movie. The duo–who are as equally respected by Hollywood as they are by the animal rights community–lend their influence to a new feature-length investigative documentary called The End of Medicine. As executive producers, Phoenix and Mara team up with BAFTA-winning director Alex Lockwood (73 Cows) and producer Keegan Kuhn (Cowspiracy, What The Health) to expose a disturbing, dirty little secret that the food industry has been trying to conceal for decades.
In a swift 73 minutes, The End of Medicine draws attention to the underreported link between global disease–pandemics and antibiotic resistance included–and our (mis)use of animals. The film gets its momentum from whistleblower Dr. Alice Brough, a young vet who first grew intolerant toward the industry's "acceptable" practices of animal agriculture. As we see, Dr. Brough risks her professional career and livelihood to denounce the corruption within the industry by sharing insider information about the reality of factory farming and animal disease. Through her tears, we can clearly see how distressed she is as she talks directly to the camera, remorseful for her contributions to the industry in the past.
In typical call-to-action-type documentaries, The End of Medicine provides an overwhelming number of facts that are meant to shock the viewer into making immediate lifestyle changes. Industry insiders, government advisors, politicians, scientists, and leading doctors share unnerving statistics that at times, feel more hopeless than optimistic.
One claim that caused me to sit up a little straighter was hearing that 3 out of 4 emerging infectious diseases come from an animal source. This tends to happen because an animal's immune system is lowered when they're stressed, and they're stressed because they're so densely packed in cages in unsanitary conditions. It's easy for the animal, then, to catch an infection and spread it to the rest of their cage-mates and eventually, the humans who consume them. Not surprisingly, COVID was used as an example: We socially distance ourselves from other sick humans but are doing the exact opposite to animals. This film asks, "Why?"
The End of Medicine has one goal in mind, and that is to get its audience to think twice about consuming animal products. Ideally, Phoenix and Mara would be able to convince all of us to go completely vegan (but it may take a few more documentaries for that to happen). While the note the film ends on isn't the most optimistic in tone, aside from the standard "transform yourself to transform the world", its intentions are pure and worthwhile. Films like these are important, and if The End of Medicine causes you to pause before ordering the burger–even for a moment–then it's done its job.
In 'Anaïs in Love,' A Charming Young Parisian Falls Into a Complex Affair
Where to watch: 'Anaïs in Love' is now playing at Laemmle Theaters.
For a French romantic comedy about a thirty-something woman falling in and out of love in the City of Light, Anaïs in Love isn't as très chic as I expected. Set in Paris, the surrounding countryside, and a small, picturesque seaside town, what the film has in terms of baked-in natural aesthetic falls short when it comes to the story itself; specifically our protagonist's motivation for disrupting her life and those around her. If you're looking for a film that will transport you to a breezy, sun-soaked European destination, then Anaïs in Love will certainly satisfy that desire. Unfortunately, it doesn't offer much else.
Anaïs (Anaïs Demoustier) leads a very dysfunctional life. She can't afford her rent, she is too claustrophobic to take an elevator/enclosed transportation (leading her to bike and run everywhere), her mother is terminally ill, she is struggling to complete her school thesis, her unstable relationship with her boyfriend is on life support... and she just found out that she is 7 weeks pregnant despite being vocal about never wanting children.
With the entire world seemingly against her, Anaïs takes everything in stride. She is, for better or for worse, a free spirit with an "on to the next" attitude that doesn't allow her to sit in her grief for long. She finds distraction in her new quasi-relationship with older gentleman Daniel (Denis Podalydès) who she meets at a mutual friend's party. He is a book publisher, and their shared passion for literature is something they quickly bond over. However, Daniel is already in a committed relationship with his partner Emilie (Valeria Bruni Tedeschi), a well-respected author. Despite knowing this, Anaïs continues her affair with Daniel until she catches a glimpse of the blonde beauty and decides that it is Emilie who she wants after all.
Much like the character of Anaïs, the film is, at times, a bit messy. Movement is a central theme here, from Anaïs' constant running in scenes to emotionally skirting away from reality. However exhausting it might be to watch, it portrays Anaïs' emotional state quite well: this is a girl who doesn't know what she wants. I wish we were given more insight as to why Anaïs is as she's portrayed to be. Without any context, it feels as if "quirky" was the only personality trait she was given.
Anaïs's claustrophobic trait is an interesting one, especially when speaking metaphorically. The confines of any sort of boundary–whether it be physical walls or a metaphorical code of ethics–causes Anaïs to react like a wild dog in a cage. She pushes back much harder than she should and her actions have consequences that we, unfortunately, never see played out in the film. She cheats on her boyfriend and makes an important decision about her pregnancy, yet we never see how he deals with the news. Was he ever told? We don't know.
Despite the character development shortcomings, director Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet's Anaïs in Love is a charming, albeit manic, depiction of a complicated young woman at a crossroads in her life.
1h 38m. Distributed by Magnolia Pictures.
'Big Crow': The Native American Basketball Prodigy Who Inspired Many
When the world learned that Kobe Bryant (his daughter and friends included) had died in a tragic helicopter accident, it felt as if everything stopped. Whether you were a fan of the Lakers superstar or not, the news seemed too unfathomable to be true. How could someone so important and inspirational be claimed by a tragedy like this? The only grace that could be found in the aftermath was seeing how the world came together to celebrate his legacy and honor his life. Echoing this pattern of heroes gone too soon is the Native American basketball prodigy SuAnne Big Crow, whose unexpected passing brought a community together and new importance to the sport of basketball.
In cooperation with the Great Lakota Nation, director Kris Kaczor brings the untold story of SuAnne's legacy to a wider audience in the documentary Big Crow. In the '80s, SuAnne was a local legend in her hometown of the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation in South Dakota. SuAnne had plenty of impressive stats, including scoring 67 points in a single game and making a buzzer-beating shot to win the championship. But she was more than just a hero on the court. As the film shows, SuAnne used basketball to share a message of peace and love.
SuAnne was a vocal proponent of preserving her Lakota culture and community. Regarded as one of the poorest communities in the US, basketball was seen as a way out of poverty, substance abuse, and limiting potential. With her athletic skill, SuAnne served as a beacon of hope and possibility for all. Her star was only rising when she unexpectedly died in a car accident–tragically enough, as she was on route to a basketball event. It was devastating for all who knew her but through their tears, the community found solace in the sentiment that "The most powerful thing a leader can do for their people is give their life."
Director Kris Kaczor (who also acts as an additional camera person and the film's composer) tells a comprehensive and compelling story by sharing SuAnne's life with audiences. Big Crow gives a fascinating explanation of the history of the tribe from community elders and the Big Crow family, including descendants of tribe leader Crazy Horse. As we learn, the story of the Lakota people is one of struggle. Despite being poor in possessions, however, they are rich in their culture's legacy.
"There is so much talent in Indian athletes but they don't get recognized," says one of SuAnne's former friends. Big Crow is not only an homage to a proud Lakota woman but also an inspirational story, proving that those who dare to dream big can change the world, no matter where you come from.
'Big Crow' is currently awaiting distribution. For more information, visit https://www.bigcrowfilm.com/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4KixU_XQuk
'Hatching' Goes Full Bird Body Horror
Where to watch: ‘Hatching’ opens this Friday, April 29th, at AMC theaters.
Forget flowers and Hallmark cards this Mother's Day. In her new film, Hatching, Finnish director Hanna Bergholm turns the traditionally sweet holiday into a nightmarish conjuring with blood, body horror, and–most terrifying of all: birds. Premiering at the 2022 Sundance Film Festival, Hatching's old-fashioned camp mixed with modern-day sensibilities (think animatronic Chuck E. Cheese characters meets Black Mirror) make it a film that's hard to define. One thing is certain, though: Hatching is not for the faint of heart–or stomach.
From the outside, the quiet pre-teen gymnast Tinja (Siiri Solalinna) seems to live an enviable life in the suburbs of Finland. Her family of four is the embodiment of "Live Laugh Love." At least, that's the image her mother (Sophia Heikkilä) projects through her nauseatingly optimistic vlog ‘Lovely Everyday Life.’ But there are cracks in the superficially perfect foundation that Tinja's mother exposes when she's caught cheating on her husband with the handyman. Tinja is forced into the middle of growing family dysfunction at the hands of her mother and continues to grow distant from her family, which only gets worse when Tinja unexpectedly finds herself in a maternal role that she vows to keep secret.
The trouble starts after Tinja stumbles upon a strangely speckled egg in the woods outside of her home. Her maternal instincts kick in and she brings the egg home, unaware that by acting as the egg's surrogate mother, she is imprinting on this creature (for better or worse). Days go by and the egg grows larger and larger until it hatches, revealing a human-sized bird creature that begins to morph into a direct reflection of Tinja herself. Hatching's uneasiness and horrific absurdity come from the increasing "life or death" stakes that Tinja begins to endure at this creature's hands–or, rather, claws.
Fans of A24's Lamb will find many plot similarities at the core of Hatching–specifically the act of personifying a young animal and forcing it into the world of humans. The comparisons stop there, though, as Hatching is much more vivid and grotesque. Blood, regurgitation, and insinuations of animal cruelty had me watching parts of this film through closed fingers.
With its gross and shocking horror, Hatching could easily be the next midnight movie worthy of cult status (it certainly has all of the right elements to be an Alamo Drafthouse darling.) I mean, when you have Gustav Hoegen listed as the "Creature Effects Supervisor"–the same man who worked as the animatronic designer for films like Star Wars and Jurassic World–you know you're in for a wonderfully weird adventure.
87 minutes. Distributed by IFC Films.
'Stanleyville' Satirizes Human Competition Through a Quirky Lens
Where to watch: 'Stanleyville' is now playing at the Laemmle NoHo 7 in North Hollywood.
What happens when you put five strangers in a room and force them to undergo a series of challenges in order to win a coveted prize? That's the question that Canadian-born writer/director Maxwell McCabe-Lokos poses in his dry, dark comedy Stanleyville. Highlighting the worst of humanity's selfish, "every man for himself" attitude, Stanleyville's absurdist tale is equally depressing as it is comically truthful.
Maria Barbizan (Susanne West) is apathetic about everything in her life. Her frustrating family, that dead-end job, her overall well-being... nothing seems to matter as she dumps out the contents of her purse into a trash can and walks away from the only life she knows. This lack of passion makes Maria the perfect target for a recruiter (Julian Richings) who offers her a chance at happiness by promising total transcendence and an understanding of the meaning of life. This, plus a more tangible prize: a new orange SUV–if she agrees to take part in a contest. She has nothing to lose, so she accepts (apathetically, of course).
The recruiter tells Maria that she, along with four other contestants, were hand-selected to participate in this unique competition. Maria meets the other quirky contestants–one woman, three men–in a nondescript conference room. The recruiter explains the rules: win most of the eight one-minute rounds, and the car is theirs. The challenges seem innocent enough, like blowing up a balloon and writing a song. But as that shiny new car becomes substantially within their reach, the contestants turn more animalistic in their desire to win at any cost necessary.
Stanleyville has a Lord of the Flies-inspired plot that juxtaposes nicely against its muted, beige aesthetic. The mental and physical tests the contestants go through cause them to unravel more as each round passes, much to the discomfort of the audience. Yes, Stanleyville is strange, but that's the film's charm. It is intentionally weird and self-aware.
McCabe-Lokos' feature-length directorial debut acts as a not-too-unrealistic interpretation of what people will do in order to "win "(case in point: Walmart shoppers on Black Friday). Though Stanleyville's release will no doubt be intimate and its impact fairly modest, what it lacks in terms of blockbuster appeal will be met tenfold by arthouse enthusiasts who can't get enough of obscure, absurdist indie films with a unique, strange and singular vision.
89 minutes. Distributed by Oscilloscope Laboratories.
Son Lux On Creating Their Music Multiverse in 'Everything Everywhere All At Once'
Ahead of their soundtrack release via A24 Music, Cinemacy sat down with Son Lux, the sonic masterminds that created 1 hour and 50 minutes of score (!) for the Daniels' epic 'Everything Everywhere All At Once'.
Made up of Ryan Lott, Rafiq Bhatia, and Ian Chang, they talk about seeing their dream collaboration with David Byrne come to life, their first impression of reading the script (which was initially doubled in length), and their *spoiler-free* advice you should know before watching the film, now playing in theaters.
'Marvelous and the Black Hole': Magic-Filled Friendship
Our ‘Marvelous and the Black Hole’ review was first published as part of our Sundance Film Festival 2021 coverage.
Where to watch: ‘Marvelous and the Black Hole’ opens this Friday, April 22nd, at the Laemmle Royal in West LA.
In filmmaker Kate Tsang's feel-good buddy comedy Marvelous and the Black Hole, an angsty high schooler befriends a zany children's magician and what follows is a predictable, yet charming coming of age story. It comes close to almost overdosing on its sweetness but knows when to pull back in just the right moments. There's a pureness that gives the film a sort of sparkle and even though I'm aware that the magic on screen is mostly edited "movie magic," it's spellbinding nonetheless.
Sammy (Miya Cech) is a troubled teen who lacks ambition, willpower, and interest in anything that has to do with school. What she has in spades, however, is disdain for her recently-widowed father's new girlfriend. Taking out her frustrations on herself–quite literally getting poke & stick tattoos in her bedroom–Sammy's rut concerns her father. To keep her out of trouble, he enrolls Sammy in a summer community college class designated to help people find their passion. After a serendipitous encounter on the campus, she runs into Margot (Rhea Perlman), and little do either of them know, that they are about to enter into a life-changing friendship.
Margot's maternal instincts combined with her whimsical way of living pull Sammy out of her angsty, woe-is-me shell. At first, Sammy is reluctant to listen to any authority figure and dismisses Margot's help as annoying but soon, she discovers that Margot's magic can be used as therapy. Sleight of hand card tricks and Margot's white rabbit Sebastian all aid Sammy in her self-discovery journey.
In her debut feature film, Tsang has created an offbeat story with heart. For as textbook as the premise sounds, however, Marvelous and the Black Hole is not afraid to get dark. Grief is a narrative thread that runs through the film; how we deal with it and how we can give others hope in their darkest moments keeps the film from falling into a numbing after-school special. Its edginess is further propelled by a dark fantasy score from composer Tim Kiefer.
Lighthearted and imaginative, Marvelous and the Black Hole shows how a little magic can transform dark times into a colorful adventure.
'Petite Maman' is a Beautiful Storybook Tale of a Child's Grief
Our ‘Petite Maman’ review was first published as part of our Toronto International Film Festival 2021 coverage.
Where to watch: ‘Petite Maman’ opens this Friday, April 22nd, at the Landmark in West LA and The Grove.
Céline Sciamma returns to the big screen with an intimate portrait of a girl in mourning in Petite Maman. Scaled back in both story and scope in comparison to Sciamma's last feature, Petite Maman packs a plethora of emotional catharsis and full circle sweetness into its 72-minute runtime.
Related: 'Portrait of a Lady on Fire' Review: An Observant, Spectacular Beauty
A beautiful gliding one-shot establishes the environment our 8-year-old protagonist, Nelly (Joséphine Sanz), finds herself in: a nursing home on a dreary afternoon in the French countryside. She goes room to room, politely saying "Au revoir" to the elderly women that inhabit the home, and we quickly learn that Nelly's grandmother was a resident there until recently. Packing up the grandmother's humble belongings is Nelly's mother (Nina Meurisse), whose vacant eyes express her inability to accept this new reality.
Upon returning to the family home, which Nelly's mother and father (Stéphane Varupenne) are tasked with clearing out, Nelly is free to roam throughout the untamed wilderness behind the house. Stumbling upon the fort that her mother constructed as a kid, Nelly meets another girl her age, Marion (Gabrielle Sanz). The two girls connect quickly, similar upbringings and temperaments make them fast friends but a few too many coincidences lead Nelly to question who Marion really is and soon learns that Marion's presence can offer her a sense of closure in her own life.
Is Marion real? A figment of Nelly's imagination? Or something more? Sciamma plays with these ideas early on but does a fantastic job of staying rooted in reality. Instead of leaning into the abstract sci-fi realm, she expands on the whimsicalness of childhood imagination and optimism (although the comparison to Netflix's Dark can be made whole-heartedly). Her signature themes of female companionship and emotional intimacy contribute to the film's most memorable moments, fitting nicely into her canon of highly impactful and poignant work.
Petite Maman is a beautiful story about a child's navigation through grief, told with a tenderness that quietly radiates with femininity and compassion.
72 min. Distributed by NEON.
'Cow' Captures the Boring, Beautiful Life of a Dairy Cow
Where to watch: ‘Cow' is now playing at the Lumiere Music Hall in Beverly Hills.
As humans, we have the uncanny ability to project our thoughts and feelings onto others. We do this subconsciously, of course, and usually with the best of intentions. Ryan, my brother and Cinemacy editor, names his plants. When I leave my dog Ernest at home to go to work, I feel guilty because I assume he is missing me all day long. Taking a step back, it's clear that we make these projections to make us feel better, or closer, to a thing that cannot communicate with us directly. It's a fascinating effect of our species' evolution, and this realization hit me even harder when watching Andrea Arnold's latest film, Cow.
Very similar to Viktor Kossakovsky's 2020 documentary Gunda, Cow is a meditative, slow-moving observation of the life cycle of a dairy cow. From birth to adolescence, motherhood to death, we witness it all. We are immediately transported to a working farm and stay there the entire runtime, practically able to smell the fresh manure and feel the briskness of the dawn mornings.
Related: 'Gunda' Review: A Wordless Film of a Mother Pig Stuns in Black and White
Since a cow is our main character, the film is obviously rather quiet–aside from a few moos. Yet in this silence, it's hard not to place our emotions and feelings onto this big, beautiful animal. Are the moos cries of pain or sadness when she is separated from her young calf? Is she confused or afraid when she gets branded and tagged? Of course, we can't read her mind to know what she's really thinking but what we can do is watch without objection or bias, and just observe.
Andrea Arnold is known for her provocative filmmaking, Fish Tank and American Honey being jarring depictions of coming of age stories. In this respect, Cow feels like a breath of fresh air for the director. The "Andrea Arnold" edge is still present in Cow, it's just far more tempered down and subtle.
Perhaps the Academy Award-winning filmmaker says it best. "This film is an endeavor to consider cows. To move us closer to them. To see both their beauty and the challenge of their lives. Not in a romantic way but in a real way. It’s a film about one dairy cow’s reality and acknowledging her great service to us. When I look at Luma, our cow, I see the whole world in her."
94 minutes. Distributed by IFC Films.
'Paris, 13th District' Explores Relationships Without Rules
Where to watch: ‘Paris, 13th District opens this Friday, April 15th at the Landmark Westwood in Los Angeles and select Laemmle theaters.
The beginning stages of any romantic relationship are often challenging to navigate. The endless "does he like me like I like him?" is met with "if he likes you, you'll know" but you never truly know so you're just confused. It's torture!
What Paris, 13th District (Les Olympiades) captures so honestly is this in-between stage that is so hard to define. Oscar-nominated director Jacques Audiard (The Sisters Brothers, Dheepan) explores the complexities of modern dating in this simple (mostly) black and white story of connection and loneliness.
Émilie (Lucie Zhang) is in a rut. A dead-end job as a telemarketer continuously has her in low spirits, which only worsens when she unexpectedly finds herself in need of a roommate. Then comes Camille (Makita Samba), a handsome schoolteacher who literally appears on her doorstep, also in need of a place to stay. The two become fast friends with benefits, toeing the line between love and lust, until their relationship comes to a screeching halt. Camille doesn't want a relationship. Not with Émilie, anyway.
Nearby, Nora (Noémie Merlant) is returning to school after growing bored of her career in real estate. An unfortunate case of mistaken identity sees her getting confused for cam girl Amber Sweet (Jehnny Beth), an identity that Nora is completely humiliated by. When her curiosity becomes too overwhelming, Nora seeks out her doppelganger and, much to her surprise, finds herself consumed by Amber's charm.
Now, this wouldn't be nearly as interesting a story if the lives of these four characters didn't intersect with each other. But they do. Raring hormones create intense sexual desire, but innate self-doubt casts a shadow on self-confidence. This leads to questioning their worthiness for love at all.
A love square consisting of three young women and one man, Paris, 13th District is a sexually charged dark comedy that tells the timeless story of relationship drama through the fresh eyes of our protagonists. The multicultural casting is a breath of fresh air, with special praise going to Noémie Merlant. It's becoming her niche to bare all – emotionally and physically – and she does it with such empathy here. A solid performance that is backed up by her equally engaging co-stars is further brought to life by the score from French electronic music producer Rone.
More and more modern couples are embracing sexual freedom and forgoing the traditional relationship structure; sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. Jacques Audiard weaves different narrative threads together to show how millennials are embracing rule-less relationships and creating special connections free from labels. Nominated for the Palm d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival this year, Paris, 13th District is a snapshot of cultural exploration and liberation.
Distributed by UniFrance. 'Paris, 13th District (Les Olympiades)' is awaiting a US release.
This review originally ran on November 15, 2021, during AFI FEST.
'Jane by Charlotte': A Love Letter to Mother-Daughter Relationships
Where to watch: 'Jane by Charlotte' opens this Friday, March 25th at the Landmark Westwood in Los Angeles and expands to additional cities in April. Available on Digital May 6th (Mother's Day weekend).
As children, we tend to view our mothers as a special type of superwoman. Flawless and invincible. But as we grow up, we begin to see the woman behind the "mom" moniker as less of an infallible hero and more of a human being. Charlotte Gainsbourg crosses this threshold of awareness with such intimacy and grace in the documentary, Jane by Charlotte–a film dedicated to her mother, Jane Birkin.
Both accomplished women in their own right, Birkin and Gainsbourg's relationship has been in the spotlight ever since Charlotte's birth in 1971. Inheriting her father Serge's famous surname, Charlotte followed her parents' footsteps into the world of film and music–perhaps best known for starring in numerous Lars Von Trier films such as Nymphomaniac and Antichrist, as well as for releasing a number of albums like "Rest" and "5:55."
But Charlotte's accomplishments are never highlighted in the film, and neither are her mother's. Rather, we're given a peek behind the curtain of fame and notoriety as we, very candidly, get to bear witness to the quiet, introspective conversations between a mother and her daughter.
Gainsbourg uses her eye as both a director and a daughter to look at her mom like never before; to see her as an objective subject, and not subjectively as her mother. The duo converses in various settings: backstage at a photoshoot, and at the family's childhood home. Topics are anything but dull. Throughout the film's 88 minute runtime, they discuss aging, motherhood, beauty standards, failed marriages, grief, life & death.
In watching Jane by Charlotte, we witness a mother and daughter falling deeper in love (and understanding) with each other. The film is no doubt very personal, evidenced by its subject matter and production quality. It is not heavily produced; instead, it feels much more organic and natural. Full of poignancy and sentiment, there is a moment towards the end when Charlotte takes a beat and reflects on the fortunate position she finds herself in. "I want to make the most of this luck," she says, "and make it last."
A love letter to mothers and daughters everywhere, Jane by Charlotte encourages us to look at our loved ones with both admiration as well as compassion. After all, we're all just human. Even our mothers.
88 min. Distributed by Utopia.
'Mothering Sunday' is a Sensual, Seductive Period Piece
This review originally ran on September 12, 2021, during TIFF
The words "I tried" aren't necessarily the ones you want to hear as a filmmaker introduces their film for the first time. But those were director Eva Husson's parting words as she recapped her experience making Mothering Sunday. Husson, whose previous film Bang Gang blew me away with its raw sexuality and uncompromising vision, teams up with writer Alice Birch (Normal People, Succession) to bring the story of a torrid love affair, adapted from the novel by Graham Swift, to the big screen. Try as they might, though, this one just didn't land with a bang (despite there being a lot of "banging").
Related: ‘Bang Gang’ Review: A Sun-Soaked Navigation Through Teenage Sexuality
Mothering Sunday takes place in England just after WWI, although it should be noted early on that this does not look or feel like a traditional period piece. Shot in a contemporary way with vibrant colors and mesmerizing use of lighting, Husson employs warm cinematic filters to give an old story new life.
The protagonist is Jane Fairchild (Odessa Young), an orphaned woman who works as a housemaid for a wealthy English couple, played by the incomparable Olivia Colman and Colin Firth. They treat Jane as their own, outwardly showing her affection (as much as one with a stiff upper lip can express) but it's the secret love she shares with the young aristocrat Paul Sheringham (Josh O'Connor) that truly makes her feel alive.
Their relationship is approaching its expiration date as Paul is set to marry another woman soon. Basking in the last moments they have left together, which includes poetic musings and rolling around naked, Paul and Jane make the most of their limited time together until a jarring accident prematurely ends things for good.
At this point, playing British aristocrats comes second nature to this central cast (O'Connor being The Crown's Prince Charles, Colman the series' Queen Elizabeth II as well as Queen Anne in The Favourite, and Firth playing King George VI in The King's Speech). This is to say that these fine actors do not disappoint here. Colman and Firth take on minor roles, initially leading me to question why exactly they had agreed to co-star in a film without much output, but my question was answered after each one had their show-stopping scene, complete with a dramatic monologue.
The biggest surprise was the moodiness of the film as a whole, which the score and cinematography by Jamie Ramsay contributed to greatly. Composer Morgan Kibby (of the French electro-rock band M83) re-teams with Husson to create a score that is quite unexpected for the time period, using orchestral strings layered with synth undertones, which is easily my favorite part of the film.
Unnecessary secondary storylines that take place decades later muddle the main crisis at the core of Mothering Sunday, watering down the film as a whole. Mothering Sunday would have been stronger had the film explored more of young Jane's conflicting feelings about grieving the loss of a man she was never supposed to have in the first place. Quietly mourning, feeling alone in your grief, abandoned by the one you love forever, these are powerful themes that resonated with me on a deep level. Had the focus remained on Jane at that time in her life, I can only imagine how much more affecting the story would have felt. Not all films need a happy ending, and Mothering Sunday is one of them.
Distributed by Sony Pictures Classics. Opening at the Landmark and AMC The Grove 14 on Friday, March 25th.
SXSW: 'Spin Me Round': Or, the Misadventures of Alison Brie Abroad
There's something to be said about a film that embraces a "low stakes energy" and has fun for fun's sake. That's what you get in Jeff Baena's latest, Spin Me Round. Baena (Life After Beth, The Little Hours) and Alison Brie team up again as co-writers, post-their 2020 indie darling Horse Girl, to tell a comedically awkward story of an idyllic trip gone very wrong.
Alison Brie plays Amber, a manager of an Italian restaurant chain in Sacramento, who has been selected to join other franchise managers in attending an all-expenses-paid, educational immersion program in Italy. Her initial excitement and expectation that this would be the trip of a lifetime quickly become less romantic and more questionable when faced with the reality of this "opportunity". The accommodations are barely a step above a sub-par college dormitory, the hosts of the program don't really seem to know what they're doing, and the local celebrity chef (Alessandro Nivola) and his assistant (Aubrey Plaza) seem to be overly fascinated in alienating the women from the program for their own personal pleasure. Something's off here.
Where Baena and Brie take this film is never totally clear, and that's the fun to be had. We don't know where we're going and the final reveal is completely off-the-wall bonkers (you'll never see it coming). While the humor from the script only takes the film so far, what pushes it to LOL territory is the who's who in the ensemble cast. Spin Me Round enlists some of the best comedy actors working today, including Molly Shannon, Zach Woods, Tim Heidecker, Debby Ryan, and Fred Armisen.
In the small Baena/Brie canon, however, Spin Me Round falls short compared to their first feature Horse Girl. Sure, these two movies serve different purposes and can't be matched head to head, but Spin Me Round lacks the vibrance and memorability that Horse Girl was able to so effortlessly give. Baena's latest (which is executive produced by the indie film dynamic duo, Mark and Jay Duplass) is good for a few laughs while watching, but it's not the most memorable of trips to be had.
SXSW: 'Brené Brown: Atlas of the Heart' Continues to Unpack Emotions
In this special sneak peek of the upcoming HBO Max series Atlas of the Heart (based on the book of the same name), social researcher, TED Talk celebrity, and all-around incredible human being Brené Brown takes center stage to discuss what she knows best: emotions. Using film and TV clips to aid in the process, Brené's thesis statement in this new series is to identify and name the 30 emotions we routinely feel in our lifetime.
"We are emotional beings rather than thinking beings," she states–evidenced by the fact that we neurologically process emotional pain the same as physical. We can feel many things at once, but putting a singular name to those feelings proves more difficult in practice. Asking her intimate live audience how many emotions they can name, the median number falls around 5. However, there are 30 identifiable emotions that Brené sets out to define, and not all emotions are equal.
As Brown goes on to say, language is the portal to correctly identifying how we're feeling. Once we master this, we'll have the ability to better connect with ourselves and, in turn, each other. One of the most fascinating segments within this first episode is the study of the word "anguish." Anguish, although sometimes felt concurrently with sadness, is not the same emotion as sadness. Brené uses various forms of mixed media to illustrate how anguish is interpreted by artists, poets, and educators, further proving that anguish is as interchangeable to sad as hot is to cold. It's not.
Another moment that really makes you think is Brené's distinction between "awe" and "wonder." Sharing iconic moments from Disney's Coco, The Wizard of Oz, Gravity, E.T., and Forrest Gump, among others, Brené points out the subtle yet paramount difference between the two emotions. Boiled down, "awe" equals observational, "wonder" equals curiosity.
Brené's natural charm and charisma make this short 40-minute episode a breeze to get through. Similar to a TED Talk, she shares her discovery in front of a small audience, encouraging them to share their thoughts about the research along the way. This engaging format seamlessly translates from the stage, even watching from home I couldn't help but feel compelled to answer Brené's calls.
Fans of Brown's will be thrilled to know that Atlas of the Heart is a continuation of her beloved and respected findings on how emotions play a role in society. In watching this series, even just one episode, you will come away having learned something truly useful that offers a deeper understanding of yourself and those around you.