The majority of the film’s poignancy emanates from the graceful performance of Hadas Yaron as Meira, the lost soul routinely shamed and guilted for trivial transgressions, acquiescing into an involuntary solitude of sorts. Not to belittle the performances of the supporting cast (all of whom provide solid turns), but Yaron’s subtle, yet powerfully resounding, emotional portrayal is the heart and soul of Félix and Meira.
Although its characters are not as adorable, kind and tender as Disneynature’s trailer for Monkey Kingdom would like you to believe, the documentary still manages to have us rooting for some of the more ruthless members Temple Troop, a family of Sri Lankan toque macaque monkeys, by its end.
Opening with the aptly selected theme song, “Hey, Hey We're The Monkees,” from the 1960s Monkees television show, the film offers up a montage of these playful “temple monkeys” bounding back and forth between ancient ruins and tree branches and swinging from each other’s tails.
Horror films and modern technology rarely mix well. In the digital age, there’s always an explanation needed for not using tech (i.e. no cell phone service); or, the level of advancement is stretched and bastardized (i.e. fake computer programs and interfaces) to get potential victims into or out of a jam.
Unfriended keeps things simple and recognizable, the entire film unfolding on a teenager’s computer screen via tools like Skype, Spotify, and Facebook. There’s potential in the premise and a few intriguing moments, but the film’s major issue is that it’s not scary. A supernatural element clashes with the online antics, and the tension is never enough to transcend the fact that we’re constantly watching a bunch of dull, unlikable teens yelling at each other through webcams.
What is it exactly that makes us “human beings?” What, scientifically speaking, determines our intelligence? Is it our intellect? Is it because we are cognizant? Is it our morality? Is it because we have the ability to learn? Rudimentarily speaking, aren’t we nothing more than living, breathing computers? We’re walking I/O towers.
Frédéric Tcheng’s feature-length documentary Dior and I offers an unprecedented look inside one of the few high fashion (haute couture) houses that still employ some of the most talented seamstors and seamstress in the world, tirelessly working in traditional studios (ateliers) assembling by hand what will hopefully become runway-ready frocks.
Juliette Binoche and Kristen Stewart ably carry their weight in the new film from writer/director Olivier Assayas which centers around a veteran actress, Maria Enders (Binoche), at the top of her international career set to appear in the same play that made her famous twenty years ago, but in a different role. The past, along with reflections of herself, as well as perspectives new and old swirl around her like the cloud phenomena of Sils Maria; spellbinding and nauseating all at the same time.
Christopher Presswell’s second feature, Candlestick, is a loving homage to Alfred Hitchcock in nearly every aspect – the score, the dialogue, the plot, and even the opening titles – but it acts more like a reimagining of Hitchcock’s Rope than something that can stand on its own merits. Still, it’s just devious and twisty enough to be a fairly entertaining watch.
Something has changed in Ronnie (Yorick van Wageningen) as he no longer appears to be the bastard referred to in the title of Guido van Driel’s feature length debut. He seems calmer, less prone to sudden outbursts of gruesome violence, and the rough edges of his volatile personality have softened a bit. He might have picked up the ability of clairvoyance somewhere along the way. Yet it remains to be seen if Robbie truly has changed as a person as he searches for the man that left him for dead.
The Fast and Furious franchise has gone through many changes over the course of its 14-year-long run, a run that will likely continue for the foreseeable future. It transformed from an easily dismissible series of films about illegal street racing into an action powerhouse that has featured some of the most insane and thrilling car chases put on film.
For Future Reference is a new feature in which we review and recommend festival films yet to be picked up for US distribution (although, hopefully, they will be in the near future). For our inaugural episode, I've chosen Guto Parente's The Mysterious Death of Pérola, an almost dialogue-free, snail's pace slow-burn murder mystery wherein subtle, unsettling imagery replaces more traditional scare tactics.
52 Tuesdays is a poignant and lovingly, if not slightly disjointed, coming-of-age story that provides a uniquely presented exploration into the life of a young woman whose mother is transitioning into a man. Director Sophie Hyde took an interesting approach when crafting the film, shooting each Tuesday for 52 consecutive weeks in order to mimic the film’s approach to storytelling – a method that, while interesting, had little impact on the overall experience.
Hungarian director Kornél Mundruczó begins his foray into genre cinema, not with a whimper but with a loud bark, in his latest, White God. In this kitchen-sink approach to creating a compelling genre film, Mundruczó hits far more than he misses, making this canine version of Planet-of-the-Apes-meets-The-Birds not one to miss.
Fernando Coimbra’s Brazilian thriller A Wolf at the Door begins as a kidnap story, with a couple reporting that their child was abducted from school. From here the viewer is led to believe the film will then progress as a simple whodunit, with police tracking the kidnapper and attempting to rescue the child. Coimbra boldly tosses this procedural structure aside however, and reveals the kidnapper within the first act. Surprisingly, even after knowing who took the child, the film still manages to keep the viewer on their feet as they discover the reasoning behind the abduction.
These days, the concept of record labels and bands being on indies versus majors has all but faded away with the advent of the internet and easy, cost-effective methods to self-distribute music. Back in day, bands would strive to get signed and often be presented with the decision of staying on a small indie label or heading to a major label, most likely gaining more fame and wealth but a the cost of their artistic integrity.
Few specific genres of cinema allow for the creativity and innumerable unique possibilities in film in the same way as horror. Even fewer have entertained audiences for generations. Tales of fear – that strange, tingling sensation we get from watching the dread unfold and the excitement of watching what is twisted or beyond our perception toy with the human mind – offer the opportunity for something truly transcendent.
Director Rob Marshall, whose prior musical works include Chicago and Nine, brought writer James LaPine and songwriter Stephen Sondheim’s famed play “Into The Woods” to the big screen last year, and the film is now out on Blu-ray for purchase.
The intertwining stories of luminous characters like Cinderella, Rapunzel, Little Red Riding Hood and Jack (of the beanstalk variety) make up this epic fairy tale set to Sondheim’s songs against production designer Dennis Gassner’s magical backdrop. Film Pulse’s Blake Crane wrote a great review when the film initially hit theaters, which you can read here (http://filmpulse.net/woods-review/), so I won’t go too much into a critique of the film itself. For thoughts on the DVD/Blu-ray/Digital combo pack, read on.
7
