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.