'Project Space 13' is Performance Art During Covid Panic
If you feel like reliving a not-so-distant nightmare, queue up writer/director Michael Bilandic's fascinatingly bizarre feature, Project Space 13. This suffocating satire offers a trippy look at how a performance artist and two security guards spend a night in SoHo at the height of the 2020 Covid apocalypse.
Nate (Keith Poulson) is an amateur performance artist in NYC who finally gets his big break when he's invited by Pieter (Jason Grisell) to take up residency at his high-scale Manhattan art gallery. Nate's provocative and jarring piece includes self-isolation in a prison-like cage, relying on a dominant robot accomplice for food (fried bugs), relief (excrement supplies), and torture (electrical shocks). However, as luck would have it, the city shuts down on night one of his three-month show. But Nate is stubborn and refuses to quit, so the galley hires a security guard duo (Hunter Zimny and Theodore Bouloukos) to watch over the space and Nate. As the city turns more chaotic by the minute and deranged, desperate civilians begin to threaten their safety, the three men start preparing for the worst – spilling their darkest secrets in the process.
Project Space 13 has a Marina Abramović meets Dash Snow vibe that makes for an intentionally uneasy watch. Bilandic's daft protagonist, embodied by Keith Poulson, is a self-righteous artist who claims to dwell at the center of art & technology. His stance is admirable, even sympathetic, but his method of getting his point across via provocative performance art while the city plunges into chaos around him is charmingly naive.
Cinematographer Sean Price Williams, best known for his work on the Safdie brothers' Good Time, lends his artfully chaotic eye to this micro-indie feature, giving the film an unsteadiness that perfectly encapsulates how we all felt during the height of the Covid confusion. Further pushing the film into the arthouse column is the original score by "Cult Film Composer" Paul Grimstad (Heaven Knows What, Jobe'z World). I'm still trying to shake the sounds of a baby's cry set against a sporadic drum line beat from the opening sequence. And trust me, the end title credit remix is a jam worth waiting for.
Project Space 13 is streaming exclusively on MUBI.
Lorne Balfe Premieres New Track From 'Silent Night'
Grammy-winning composer Lorne Balfe upgrades a classic Christmas carol in the British dark comedy Silent Night, and we've got the exclusive.
Silent Night, starring Keira Knightley and directed by Camille Griffin, follows parents Nell (Knightley) and Simon (Matthew Goode) as they invite their closest friends to join their family for Christmas dinner at their idyllic home in the English countryside. As the group comes together, it feels like old times. But behind all of the laughter and merriment, something is not quite right. The world outside is facing impending doom, and no amount of gifts, games, or Prosecco can make mankind’s imminent destruction go away.
A choir of voices sings the familiar titular hymn, but their proclamation that "all is calm, all is bright" feels anything but cheery. Rapturous orchestration builds throughout the piece until it reaches a moment of calm, which is where the strong soloists take over and ease the suspense.
Cinemacy is thrilled to premiere the first track from Silent Night, "All Is Calm,” before its release on Friday, December 10th. Click here to pre-save the soundtrack now.
"Musically, we sought to think big," says Balfe, who brings his years of expertise and extraordinary talent to Camille Griffin's feature-length directorial debut. "We filled the silence with a full orchestra, Bulgarian and Viennese choirs, incredible soloists, and the Christmas powerhouse that is Michael Buble who helps sell the film's dystopian reality by bridging our worlds with easily recognizable nostalgia.”
Originally from Inverness, Scotland, Balfe was destined to be a composer. At 8 years old, he wrote and sold “jingles” for advertisements, and at 13, he auditioned to be a percussionist with the Edinburgh Symphony Orchestra (he secured a spot, of course, and became their youngest member). Balfe's drive and passion led him to pursue a career as a film composer in the U.S., where he continues to leave lasting impressions in the industry. His critical acclaim extends far and wide, having worked on compositions for the Mission Impossible franchise, Black Widow, The Lego Batman Movie, and the Oscar-nominated The Florida Project.
Distributed by AMC+ and RLJE Films, 'Silent Night' is now playing in theaters and streaming exclusively on AMC+. The OST will be released by Lakeshore Records on Friday, December 10.
In 'Wolf,' George MacKay and Lily-Rose Depp Embrace Their Animal Sides
I love my family's pug, Papacito. His rolls of back fat, droopy lips, and sensational snoring are what make him (and all pugs, really) so lovable. The thought of being a pug though is absolutely horrifying.
For some people, this is more than just a humorous "what if." Clinical lycanthropy is a real mental disorder in which a person believes that they were born into the wrong body and are, in their truest form, a nonhuman animal. These delusions are not new either. The first major case dates back to the 1850s when a man truly believed he was a werewolf. This fascinating taboo of "species dysphoria" is the basis of Nathalie Biancheri's high concept arthouse film Wolf.
George MacKay (1917) plays Jacob, a quiet young man who enters a facility that claims to cure a very specific psychosis: species dysphoria, or his belief that he is a wolf. Having gotten in trouble for acting on his animalistic instincts, Jacob and his fellow animal peers undergo intense and often graphic treatments at the hands of a man called The Zookeeper (Paddy Considine).
During his time at the clinic, Jacob befriends a Panda (Karise Yansen), steers clear of the Parrott (Lola Petticrew), is followed by the German Shepard (Fionn O'Shea), and unexpectedly, falls in love with the Wildcat, played by Lily-Rose Depp (The King). Her feline features compliment Jacob's canine characteristics, and the two are quick to fall in puppy love. However, Jacob soon realizes that he is faced with a life-changing decision: can he deny his "true self" for true love?
It's easy to quickly draw comparisons to Yorgos Lanthimos' The Lobster (in my opinion one of the best movies ever made). But the similarities stop short of being a carbon copy of the Greek weird wave output. Wolf is a gritty juxtaposition between the beauty and complexity of staying true to oneself.
Despite the humorous thought of actors crawling on the floor and howling like animals for the majority of the film, Wolf is definitely not a comedy. The Zookeeper forces a young man who thinks he's a Squirrel to climb up a tree using his fingernails which, as one could assume, ends in excruciating pain. He also pressures the girl who believes she's a Parrot to jump from the window of their building, claiming that if she's a real bird, she will be fine in her ascension.
Psychological torture and manipulation run rampant throughout the film, further illustrating that the idea of conversion therapy treatment centers are often fraught with abuse and power struggles. Further supporting the dark nature of the film is the primal score by Polish composer Stefan Wesolowsky, whose use of cellos, old synthesizers, flute, contrabass saxophone, and more create an edgy, untamed vibe.
George MacKay is the true star here, fully committing physically and emotionally to the role. His ability to stabilize and strengthen every scene he's in is a true talent, and he shines the brightest on screen.
Giving the audience much to ponder post-watch, Wolf is a high concept, humble production that, at its core, is a film that celebrates the beauty of individuality.
Distributed by Focus Features. 'Wolf' opens in theaters this Friday.
'Flee' is a Breathtaking Recount of Survival
Remarkably moving in both its story and delivery, Jonas Poher Rasmussen's animated feature Flee is a must-watch. Expanding our idea of what a documentary can be, Flee's depiction of an Afghan refugee's decades-long plight for survival and, most importantly, self-acceptance, is a deep well of emotional fragility. Executive produced by Riz Ahmed and Nikolaj Coster-Waldau, Flee was also the first film to be acquired (by NEON) from the 2021 Sundance Film Festival.
The film begins with a title card informing us that what we are about to watch is based on a true story, but some names and locations have been changed to protect identities and avoid persecution. For the next hour and a half, we become wrapped up in the life story of Amin Nawabi (a pseudonym) as he tells his harrowing journey of life as a young gay man who was always on the run from the police, the government, and his own feelings.
In a very poised, yet hesitant way, much like he is talking to a new therapist, Amin describes his earliest childhood memories as a three-year-old in Kabul, Afghanistan in the 1980s. A-ha's 'Take on Me' plays under b-roll of live-action footage– a jarring reminder that despite the film's mostly animated look, this is not make-believe. After his father mysteriously disappears and Amin and his brother risk getting drafted into the military–which might as well be a death sentence– the family flees Afghanistan with hopes and prayers as their only game plan.
What follows is horrifying abuse and multiple life or death situations while constantly crossing borders to cover their tracks. Forever in flux, it is hard to plan for the future when you're forced to live a day at a time. Especially as a gay man, Amin's fight for survival was his only goal.
Set against a haunting score by composer Uno Helmersson (The Painter and the Thief) and powerful uses of the tracks 'Breathe In' and 'Help Me' by the American-Icelandic artist Low Roar, Flee will put you through your own emotional journey. Mesmerizing visuals span throughout Amin's life; from childhood to the present day, living in Stockholm with his partner, and even though it's drawn in 2-D animation, we feel his pain. We see the tears well up in his eyes and sense the tension and anxiety he has carried around his entire life. And that last shot... just brilliant.
Flee is a remarkable feat for the entire filmmaking team and one of the most profound films I've seen in a long time.
This review originally ran on January 30, 2021, during the Sundance Film Festival.
Distributed by NEON. Opening in theaters this Friday.
Uno Helmersson Premieres First Track from 'Flee'
When I watched Flee at the end of my virtual 2021 Sundance Film Festival run, I knew I had just witnessed something extraordinary. My jaw was on the floor and I was wiping tears from my eyes simultaneously, yet still wishing there was an "encore" button I could click to watch it all over again.
What makes this documentary so special aside from its sympathetic story about Amin, a gay refugee from Afghanistan who opens up about his past for the first time, is the music. The powerful placements of the tracks ‘Breathe In’ and ‘Help Me’ by the American-Icelandic artist Low Roar evoke a tender subtext that cannot be expressed through dialogue alone. However, it's the hauntingly beautiful score by Swedish composer and multi-instrumentalist Uno Helmersson (The Painter and the Thief) that will sweep you off your feet and take you through your own emotional journey.
Cinemacy is honored to premiere the first track from Flee titled "Leaving Family Behind" before its release on Friday, December 3rd. Listen below.
"Leaving Family Behind", like the rest of Helmersson's score, does an astute job of complimenting the picture without distracting from the film's already emotional narrative. It flows organically in tandem with the animation, the orchestration really brings the film to life. The score, like Flee itself, is a triumphant work of art.
Helmersson, who currently has over 70 IMDB credits to his name, was born and raised in a rural part of northern Sweden (and now lives in Stockholm). He has always been musically gifted; he took organ classes as a child and was accepted into the Royal College of Music in Stockholm in 2002. His path to international acclaim started when he met Johan Söderqvist, one of the most prominent composers of film music in the Nordics. Since then, he has worked on numerous film and TV scores and has been acknowledged with a Golden FIPA Award at the Biarritz International Festival of Audiovisual Programming for the Scandinavian TV series Bron/Broen.
Ever since winning the Sundance Grand Jury prize earlier this year, Flee has been a front-runner in the pre-awards chatter, landing on every Best Documentary nomination list from around the globe. I wouldn't be surprised if this also makes all of the Best Soundtrack lists too.
Distributed by NEON, Flee is Denmark’s official selection for Best International Feature Film at the 94th Academy Awards. Coming to theaters on Friday, December 3rd. The OST will be released by Milan Records on the same day.
In 'C'mon C'mon,' Joaquin Phoenix Sees Life Through a Child's Eyes
Watching a Mike Mills film is always a very intimate experience because he draws inspiration from his own life. Beginners was for his dad, 20th Century Women was for his mom, and his new film, C'mon C'mon, is for his kid (whom he raises with his partner, filmmaker Miranda July).
Acting as a time capsule of childhood innocence, viewed from the perspective of the young at heart, C'mon C'mon is an earnest and delicate relationship drama that leaves room for reflection on the vulnerability and importance of human connection.
Johnny (Joaquin Phoenix) is a middle-aged, single man who is consumed with his job as a field radio journalist in NYC. His current project is interviewing kids about their candid thoughts on the future, recording their answers that span the spectrum of incredible optimism to sobering realities. Johnny's ability to connect with these kids is a foreshadowing of what the universe has in store for him next.
Ever since the death of his mother, Johnny has had a semi-estranged relationship with his sister, Viv (Gaby Hoffmann), so it's a little surprising that she calls him asking for a favor. Viv is in the throws of navigating through an unhealthy relationship roadblock with her husband (Scoot McNairy) and has to travel from her home in Los Angeles to San Francisco to sort it out.
Viv is desperate for Johnny to watch her young son Jesse (Woody Norman) for the few days she will be gone. Hesitant at first, Johnny sees this as an opportunity to re-connect with the nephew he barely knows. What becomes unveiled as Johnny and Jesse spend time together – which goes from a few days to a few weeks – is the epiphany that, despite being different, they are actually more alike than they know.
In addition to being a touching tribute to his own nuclear family, C'mon C'mon is an ode to the overall challenges of parenting in the 21st Century. It's easy to see the Mills' school of thought here – the uncertainty and amazement of raising a human being while you yourself are still figuring out how to co-exist in the world.
Joaquin Phoenix gives a phenomenal performance as Johnny (a man who Mills admits is partly based on himself). Phoenix's organic embodiment of the character and emotional translucency is on full display, most notably when interviewing the various children for his radio show. Those scenes were not scripted, rather, they are improvised documentary moments between actor and child. As a whole, young people are rarely given the opportunity to answer important questions, and these scenes prove why society needs to start conversating with and listening to these younger voices.
And speaking of paying attention to the next generation, British-born Woody Norman is the film's biggest revelation. With his mop of messy hair, charming doe-eyes, and precocious sensibilities, his ability to hold his own against a Hollywood heavyweight like Phoenix is not only admirable but downright amazing. Norman disappears into the film, radiating joy in the more lighthearted moments and shedding tears when it calls for emotional release. Together, Phoenix and Norman create a bond that's raw and honest and should be remembered for the brave journey they take here together.
The other noticeable element is the film's look. Shot by cinematographer Robbie Ryan (The Favourite, American Honey), black & white gives the film an obvious "cinematic fairytale" look that is more intentional than simply for aesthetic purposes. Life, as well all know, is never black or white. We live in the grey. C'mon C'mon also lives in that grey, tackling philosophical issues that have no clear answer and proposing hypothetical questions that receive varied reactions. What Johnny and Jesse navigate throughout the course of the film is a whole lot of greyness–and it's a beautiful monochromatic vision.
Complimenting the film's natural look is the music by frequent Mike Mills collaborators Aaron and Bryce Dessner of the band The National. Their minimalist, gentle sound colors the emotional world of Johnny and Jesse.
C'mon C'mon is full of magical little wonders, but perhaps the most important of all is the reminder that the simple act of listening can be a catalyst for good. Whether it be through intimate moments shared between Johnny and Jesse or the unscripted admissions from youth across the country, C'mon C'mon encourages an expression of unconditional love. Not just to our blood relatives, but to humanity as a whole. Picturing the future is a scary thought when we feel like we're facing it alone, but trusting that someone will be there for us throughout the journey makes moving forward a little easier.
Distributed by A24. 'C'mon C'mon' opens in theaters this Friday, November 19th.
AFI FEST: 'Vera Dreams of the Sea' Fights Against the Patriarchy
In Kaltrina Krasniqi's moving drama Vera Dreams of the Sea–a film about exploitation and sacrifice–director Kaltrina Krasniqi proves that, yes, revenge is a dish best served cold.
Our hero–the stoic matriarch at the center of the film–is Vera (Teuta Ajdini). Vera is a middle-aged sign language interpreter who is nearing retirement and eyeing a relaxing future on the sandy shores outside of the city in Kosovo. She and her husband, Fatmir (Ilire Vinca Celaj), own a second property in a remote village that has recently become worth thousands and Vera plans to capitalize on the hot commodity and sell it, fast. However, her beachside musings will have to wait.
Tragedy befalls Vera and her family when her husband surprisingly takes his own life. Immediately, her hopes for their future together are washed away. To further add to her heartache and confusion, a family friend, Ahmet (Astrit Kabashi), claims that before he died, Fatmir verbally gave the property rights over to him. This is news to Vera, who doesn't believe her husband would do that behind her back. But as the film goes on, blackmail and harassment begin to follow Vera and her family, ultimately forcing her hand towards relinquishing the house to Ahmet. But Vera, being the wise woman that she is, has one last trick up her sleeve.
A semi-autobiographical tribute to her own mother, Kaltrina Krasniqi creates a swelling, tension-filled living nightmare for all players involved. In its conservative 82-minute runtime, Vera Dreams of the Sea speaks to archaic political institutions and women's role in society, specifically in Kosovo; it's both a history lesson and a fable packaged as a female empowerment film, and I'm here for it.
Krasniqi plays with blurring the line between fantasy and reality in beautifully choreographed, surreal seaside moments. The ocean waves sweep over Vera, serving as a physical cleansing of her foreboding problems, if only metaphorically. Her daydreams serve as her escape, and this fantasy world is her safe place.
Vera Dreams of the Sea is a slow burner that simmers with intensity. Vera is a submissive woman by nature, and the film follows in a similar vein. It's quiet, searing, and serves as a reminder to never underestimate the underdog.
Distributed by Heretic. 'Vera Dreams of the Sea' is awaiting US release.
Camille Rowe and James Jagger Dive Into Danger in 'The Deep House'
Adrenaline junkies and YouTube influencers find themselves in over their heads when a seemingly casual adventure goes terribly wrong, in Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillotake's aspirational horror film, The Deep House.
I say "aspirational" because while the bones of a chilling story are there–foreigners in a foreign land, the flurry of paranormal activity, a dire race against the clock–the end product is a lackluster turn of events that sinks without so much as a splash.
The couple at the center of the film are social media influencers, Tina (Camille Rowe) and Ben (James Jagger). Both are extremely beautiful, fit, and with the most envious of distinctive jawlines. After hearing local lore that a perfectly preserved mansion is settled at the bottom of a nearby lake, the duo set off to explore it for #content for their online #followers.
Ben seems to be more of the instigator, badgering Tina to follow his lead as they gear up and prepare to scuba dive to the house's location hundreds of feet underwater. What starts out as a peaceful excursion turns sinister when the duo gets trapped in the aquatic haunted house and panicked screaming and hyperventilation ensue for the remainder of the film.
My biggest hang-up with The Deep House is how it feels more focused on scaring its protagonists rather than its audience. We see that Tina and Ben are terrified as their circumstance continues to spiral downward but their anxiety doesn't fully translate to audience sympathy. Perhaps some of the blame is that most of the film is dependent on voiceovers. Model turned actor Camille Rowe–whose credits still list her as the ex-girlfriend of Harry Styles (like that should carry any weight toward her own accomplishments, but I digress)–and James Jagger–son of Mick Jagger–do a fine job when on land (when we can see their facial expressions and body language). But placed behind a thick scuba diving mask for a majority of the film, we lose that connection and ultimately, lose our care.
Most impressive is the practical nature in which the co-directors approached this project. There is no reliance on CGI, rather, a full-scale haunted house set was constructed in a water tank in Belgium. Capturing this choreographed chaos is cinematographer and skilled diver, Jacques Ballard. Ballard, who is also credited as DP for Naughty Boy ft. Beyoncé, Arrow Benjamin’s aquatic music video “Runnin' (Lose It All)" is the real MVP here, contributing adequate tension and suspense to all of the maze-like twists and turns.
I was initially drawn to The Deep House because of its potential. An underwater haunted house sounded SCARY. However, 85 minutes later, I admit that I would have rather watched actual YouTubers doing actual YouTube shenanigans, which I do not say lightly. If you're looking for a satisfactory B-movie horror night, The Deep House could be an option. Or you could just be better off clicking on a random video on the YouTube homepage.
Distributed by Paramount and EPIX. 'The Deep House' is now streaming on EPIX & for digital purchase via Paramount Home Entertainment.