'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.