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.
Gustavo Santaolalla Shares New Track From 'El Cid'
Gustavo Santaolalla is a hardworking man. He was 5 years old when he realized playing the guitar was his passion and has never looked back since. The now 70-year-old Oscar, Grammy, Golden Globe, and BAFTA winner has a long list of industry accomplishments, ranging from composing the scores to feature films such as Babel, Brokeback Mountain, and The Motorcycle Diaries to producing documentaries like Break It All: The History of Rock in Latin America. He has recently added to his repertoire composing the soundtrack to the Amazon Original series El Cid – which tells the story of the mysterious and complex Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar, a Castilian nobleman and war hero in medieval Spain.
Fans of Gustavo Santaolalla will be pleased to know that his unmatched and highly technical guitar work is on full display throughout the El Cid soundtrack. The score is richly orchestrated with instruments of the medieval period, providing an epic backdrop with an integral Spanish flair to the series.
Cinemacy is thrilled to premiere the title track from "El Cid: Themes and Inspirations" before its soundtrack release tomorrow, November 4th. Listen below.
"On this album, I want to share the themes, interludes, and textures that I originally created for the series," says Santaolalla. "Some pieces were used as you’ll hear them here. Others became part of the score that [composer Alfonso G. Aguilar] put together. And there are some that you will only hear in this collection, which continues my quest to connect with music that is part of my identity. This is a very personal album.”
"El Cid: Themes and Inspirations" will be released on November 4th on Lakeshore Records. You can now pre-save the album here.
'Mark, Mary & Some Other People' Sees Millennials Exploring Non-Monogamy
If you're a millennial who has ever thought about the reality of ethical non-monogamy, writer/director Hannah Marks offers an airy, lighthearted glimpse into the complexities of seeking physical pleasure outside of the traditional relationship model in Mark, Mary & Some Other People. While the characters can come off a little immature in their quest to hook up with anyone other than their primary partner, the film's biggest achievement is its ability to inject some comedic relief into an otherwise emotionally taxing or uncomfortable situation. But please I'm begging you, if you've been thinking about opening up your relationship, don't spring the topic on your partner while you're in the middle of getting down. You don't have to watch the film to know that that won't end well.
In a modernized "meet-cute," ex-college acquaintances Mary (Hayley Law) and Mark (Ben Rosenfield) bump into each other at a liquor store and have been inseparable ever since. Mary is a cool, confident woman who's outspoken about her feminist ideals and progressive beliefs, and serves as a nice balance to Mark, who is more of the nerdy submissive type. They compliment each other well and there's no doubt that they love each other but after a year of marriage – and a small ceremony where Mark wore a tuxedo t-shirt and Mary screamed "Hell yeah 'I Do'" – Mary begins questioning her promise of monogamy forever.
Her fear of being a "crusty married person" paralyzes her. (I should mention that Mary and Mark are 27 and 26, hardly "crusty" at all, but I digress.) After talking with her equally progressive-minded friends, Mary approaches Mark with the idea of a polyamorous relationship. "Monogamy is dumb," Mary states. "You should've thought about that before we were married," Mark quips. "How am I supposed to know what I want before I want it?" Mary retaliates. The immaturity of this conversation is my biggest hangup in the film; I believe it missed an opportunity to address the real need for connection, both physical and emotional, that isn't always attainable in one's spouse alone. Non-monogamy certainly isn't for everyone, and while it's becoming more common as a relationship model allowing partners to forge connections with people outside of the marriage, the way it was presented here felt slightly childish.
Their polyamory starts out as a game between Mary and Mark; after setting some ground rules, they are then free to sleep with whoever, whenever. They initially have a pretty toxic mindset about the whole thing but eventually, start to realize that how they're going about polyamory is not sustainable if they want to preserve a healthy relationship with each other. To the film's credit, the ending is perfectly executed and redeems the earlier hang-ups I had with the characters' intentions.
Hannah Marks certainly has a strong directorial voice and vision that is on display here, making Mark, Mary & Some Other People an impressive feat. It feels as if this film exists in the same universe as the Eastside-set, indie rom-com Band Aid. A few standout moments include the soundtrack, especially the breezy "falling in love" montage set to Mac Demarco's "My Kind of Woman" and Mary's envious collection of Dadybones jewelry. Hayley Law and Ben Rosenfield pair well together too, bouncing their comedic energy off of each other with ease.
It's refreshing to see progressive romantic comedies become more mainstream, especially with characters that are so relatable. Mark and Mary have flaws, sure, but they're still trying to figure it out just like the rest of us. And that's something I'll always root for.
This review originally ran on June 14, 2021, during the Tribeca Film Festival.
Distributed by Vertical Entertainment. 'Mark, Mary & Some Other People' opens in theaters and on-demand this Friday, 11/5.
In 'Violet,' Olivia Munn Battles The Voice in Her Head
Our 'Violet' review was first published after the 2021 Toronto International Film Festival.
A confident woman is an unstoppable woman in Justine Bateman's feature-length directorial debut, Violet. Set in the fast-paced, male-dominated Hollywood film industry, one young studio executive is finally pushed to her breaking point and forced to confront a lifelong mental illness that has held her happiness hostage. Part video art, part exposure therapy, Violet is an untraditional film that dares to show the distressing inner turmoil that many people silently deal with every day.
Olivia Munn plays the titular character, a sensitive woman who is just coming to terms with the realization that her entire life has been shaped by fear. Flashbacks reveal that the first signs of verbal abuse started in childhood, and we all know by now that unless properly dealt with, childhood trauma follows us into adulthood. The wounds have resulted in a harsh inner critic (voiced by Justin Theroux) who Violet calls "the committee." The committee spews negativity constantly, which causes her relationships–platonic and romantic–to suffer.
Up until that point, Violet wasn't proactively trying to silence the committee, resulting in submissiveness that allows people to walk all over her, including her co-workers at the film production company she runs and her manipulative brother who lives out of state. The only comfort she finds is with her friend Red (Luke Bracey), a very handsome man who Violet has known for decades (thus, in her mind, rendering any sort of romantic relationship between the two unspeakable). Eventually Violet decides that she's had enough of living by the committee's criticism and discovers that freedom lies on the other side of fear.
Bateman's bold approach to telling this story is seen in the video art-like quality of the film. Violet is designed to be an immersive experience for the viewer as if we're living in Violet's head while her intrusive thoughts build on top of each other and almost become too overbearing to withstand. Handwritten statements and video montages comprised of jarring quick cuts represent her racing inner thoughts, and set to a score by indie band VUM, Violet is purposefully disheveled and chaotic. Olivia Munn internalizes the character's insecurities so honestly, her performance is raw and sympathetic.
Violet is an uncomfortable watch but that is only because it succeeds in its intention to place the audience inside the mind of Violet. If nothing else, it will reassure you that even the people who look like they have it all together on the outside could very well be struggling on the inside. No one has it all figured out, and despite Hollywood making you believe otherwise, that's ok.
Distributed by Relativity, 'Violet' opens in theaters this Friday and is available on VOD November 9th.
In 'Bergman Island,' An Artist Couple Confront Their Love on the Coast
Do you love beautiful-looking arthouse films? Are you prepared for a film to pluck at your empathetic, tender heartstrings for an hour and a half? Then Bergman Island–a filmic love letter by French director Mia Hansen-Løve (Eden) to famed Swedish director Ingmar Bergman–is for you.
Not only is the film a respectful and enlightening look at the late filmmaker's career (whose seminal works like The Seventh Seal and Persona have no doubt inspired all of cinema), it is also a reflection of melancholia and how invisible things can cause real-life effects within a couple.
Related: 'Eden' Review: An Unexpectedly Quiet Snapshot of the EDM Generation
Tim Roth and Vicky Krieps play Tony and Chris, a filmmaker couple who embark on the opportunity of a lifetime, attending an artist's residency in Fårö, a Swedish island where Ingmar Bergman shot some of his most celebrated films. Upon arriving at the island, Chris (Krieps) immediately is suspicious of its beauty, claiming that she finds the island's calm and perfection depressing.
The duo takes up residency in the house where Bergman was said to have written the screenplay of Scenes From a Marriage, the film that "made millions of people divorce." Upon arriving, they immediately sense that they are in the shadow of an idol. The pressure for perfection intensifies the longer they stay, however, Tony (Roth) seems to have no trouble letting his ideas flow like running water. Chris, on the other hand, struggles with her unfinished screenplay.
Art imitates life in the second act of the film, when Chris begins to share her work in progress screenplay with Tony. Her words come to life as we're transported into her pages and meet her protagonist, a young filmmaker named Amy (Mia Wasikowska). In Chris's story, which she narrates, Amy is forced to work through complicated emotional entanglements when she runs into her first love Joseph (Ander Danielsen Lie) on the Fårö island. Amy's struggles don't seem so far off from Chris's, giving the impression that Chris is working through her own struggles via her surrogate protagonist.
Bergman Island has a lovely warmth to it. It also has a sun-drenched breeziness that Call Me by Your Name also perfectly captured. Further, it's enhanced by its transfixing harp melodies and score by Raphaël Hamburger. Not only do the idyllic coastlines elicit a sense of calm, they also act as a mini-history lesson for cinephiles young and old. Bergman Island is a film lover's movie, paying tribute to an icon, by an up-and-coming icon.
Distributed by IFC Films, 'Bergman Island' is now playing in theaters and available to rent this Friday, October 22nd.