ScreenFish

where faith and film are intertwined

Darrel Manson

The Last Victim – No light in the darkness

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The Last Victim, from director Naveen A. Chathapuram, is a story of bad people doing bad things and the way the evil keeps multiplying with each addition to the body count (which is pretty high). It’s styled as a neo-western, but it could easily have been an urban story of gangs.

The driving force of this evil is Jake (Ralph Ineson), who shows up at a roadside dinner in very rural New Mexico, to confront a former associate he’s tracked down to kill. Jake and his cohort will leave no witnesses (and from time to time, they need to kill off a few more).

The local sheriff (Ron Perlman) has to try to figure out just what’s happened in the diner that has lots of blood, but no bodies to be found. Along with a seemingly green young deputy, they start the investigation.

Susan (Ali Larter), a young professor is driving cross country with her husband on the way to her new teaching job in California They venture off the main road in search of a rustic picnic spot. But when they stumble upon Jake and his crew trying to bury the bodies, they too become witnesses to be eliminated. A good part of the film is Susan in the open country trying to avoid being found by Jake. All in all, of the various main characters, only two are alive at the end of the film.

For mood, Jake occasionally provides voice over that speaks to his pessimistic and misanthropic view of modern society. It’s not so much that he thinks he is noble as it is that he doesn’t fit into the world anymore and doesn’t even want to. So he takes his rage out on the world. In fact, we don’t really know what crimes have been committed prior to the film that leads up to that opening confrontation in the diner. We just know that Jake and those with him are bad guys.

The film wants to be way more philosophical than it is. The film opens with a title card of a quotation about revenge from an 17th century clergyman. But revenge isn’t what this is about. It is just about evil in a dark world. Showing the darkness of the world only can carry us so far. This is not a story of good versus evil, just evil corrupting everything it touches so that the darkness keeps spreading. There is only the faintest hint of hope at the end. And that hint is too tenuous for us to think there is any good to come out of this tale.

The Last Victim is in theaters and available of VOD.

The Duke – Being a good neighbor

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“When all is said and done, he really is a pretty good neighbor, isn’t he?”

In 1961, a Goya portrait of the Duke of Wellington was stolen from the National Gallery in London. It is the only theft that has ever occurred from the Gallery. The story of that theft and the trial of the thief can be found in The Duke, directed by Roger Michell. It is not really a caper movie; it’s a humorous character study of a bizarre man who just wants to help those in need.

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Kempton Bunton (Jim Broadbent) is a would-be playwright with dreams of grandeur. He also has a non-conformist streak seen mainly in his battling against the TV tax that funds the BBC. He campaigns to make it free for pensioners and war veterans. He even spends a bit of time in jail for not having paid the tax.

His long-suffering and hard-working wife Dorothy (Helen Mirren) supports the family as a house cleaner. She seems constantly angry at Kempton for not working and for being a spectacle with his protests. She is very concerned with what people will think. But we learn there is more to it than that. They lost a daughter many years ago. Kempton writes to work through his grief because Dorothy refuses to talk about it, or even visit her grave. That grief is really what is tearing their relationship apart.

When the government spent £140,000 to prevent the sale of the portrait of this national hero to an American collector, Kempton complains bitterly about what good things could have been done with the money, rather than just keeping a picture in a museum. Before long, Kempton makes a trip to London and next thing we know he and his loyal son Jackie are hiding the painting in the back of a wardrobe. Kempton writes letters to the newspapers demanding that the government spend the money to help people. He eventually returns to the museum to hand back the picture.

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The trial seems like it should be open and shut. At trial, Kempton charms the public and the press with his eccentric personality and his quixotic philosophy that just wants to make the world a little better place. He uses his testimony as a soapbox to speak about how we need to take care of each other. Broadbent is astounding as a man with a conscience that drives him to do outlandish things. He brings out the humor of such a man on trial for such a serious crime, yet seemingly only wanting to do more good.

There are two stories being told here, one public, the other private. The public portion involving the theft and the trial is filled with humor. Certainly this is the kind of eccentricity that seems to fit our idea of the English. But Kempton is more than just a bit odd. He stands for justice and fairness. He puts himself on the line when racism is present. And he is truly concerned that the aged and war veterans confined to their homes need TV to keep them company and shouldn’t be taxed. And he will also put himself on the line for his family when needed.

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The private story is more about Kempton and Dorothy’s struggle to deal with grief. Dorothy has built a wall around her pain in an attempt to avoid it. She refuses to let it be spoken about, so Kempton has tried to write plays that express his grief. The pain in their life is really the basis for the tension and struggle between them. In this portion, it is Mirren who carries the weight. She seems to be so strong, but we can tell that her pain is too much for her to bear.

The film helps us to think about how we depend on one another, whether in the privacy of grief, or seeking to change the world. Kempton is not just an eccentric cross between Don Quixote and Robin Hood. We want to think that we too can change the world, even if it’s just to make someone’s life a little bit better.

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Jesus’ story of the Good Samaritan is about that in a much more dramatic way of thinking about what it means to be a neighbor. But The Duke is also an effective beginning to consider how we will change the world around us.

The Duke is in general release.

Photos courtesy of Sony Picture Classics.

Petite Maman – Childhood magic

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The innocence of childhood may present an opportunity for magic to happen. The openness of a child can allow for things that we might think impossible. If we allow ourselves to be carried along in that openness and innocence, we may find ourselves enchanted by Petite Maman, from Céline Sciamma.

[Note: It is impossible to talk about the film without a key plot point, that could be considered a spoiler. So, if you want to experience that discovery unhindered, you should come back to this review after watching the film.]

We first meet eight year old Nelly as she goes around the nursing home saying a final goodbye to the friends she’s made there. Nelly’s grandmother has died, so Nelly won’t be coming back. She and her parents now must go to her mother’s country home to clean it out. A short way in, the task is too much for her mother’s grief and she leaves during the night, leaving Nelly and her father with the task.

Nelly remembers her mother telling about a hut she built in the woods when she was Nelly’s age. Nelly goes into the woods and discovers another little girl, Monica, the same age as she, building a hut. When Monica invites her to her house, they end up at Nelly’s grandmother’s house, where Nelly finds her grandmother, thirty years younger. Nelly (and we) quickly realizes that in some way she has met her mother as a child. The two girls share their days and have sleep overs at each other’s homes (the same house with different decors).

Monica’s ninth birthday is coming up, but she is scheduled to have surgery to prevent a condition that her mother (Nelly’s grandmother) suffers from. The night before the surgery, Nelly spends the night at Monica’s house, where she confides what she knows about her mother’s life.

The film is not so much about time travel as it is a magical bending of time to allow the two little girls to find a special, mystical bond—a bond that is more like sisters than mother and daughter. We delight in the ways they share their lives in the way that only children can do. They live in neither past nor future, but in the very present moment.

Nelly knew that her mother often seemed melancholy. She feared that her mother was like that because of her. In this setting, Nelly gets to see a very different picture of her mother, and begins to know that the two are bonded by a love that has no real parallel.

Sciamma (Tomboy, Water Lilies) is not new to coming-of-age stories. She enters into the children’s lives to find the innocence and wonder we often lose as adults. The girls find joy in building a hut, going on the lake, making pancakes—the carefree life of childhood. The parents in the story have other things on their minds. Nelly’s mother is grieving and has to deal with the overwhelming work of cleaning out a house. Monica’s mother worries about her daughter’s health as she faces an operation.

Sciamma keeps the story focused through the eyes of the girl. As she shares her days with her “little mama”, she begins to understand a bit more about the mother she has known. And she learns that they are connected in an amazing way.

Of course, I watch the film as an adult—filled with worries about many things. But in the brief (72 minute) time of entering Nelly’s life, I get to remember a little of the magic of that time. And perhaps the adult Monica will get that chance to remember as well.

Based on my viewing of this film at AFI Fest, I included it in my Darrel’s Dozen for last year.

Petite Maman is showing in select theaters.

Photos courtesy of Neon.

Reflection – War and aftermath

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Valentyn Vasyanovych’s Reflection is a look at war and its aftermath. The film is part of Film Movement’s Ukrainian Film Collection being released in theaters. These films give us insight into the country and culture that has become such an important part of world affairs. Ten percent of the gross ticket sales of the collection will be donated to Ukraine Crisis Fund, administered by Americares.

While it may seem that the Russo-Ukraine war is very recent, this film takes place in the first year of the war, 2014. At that point, the fighting was limited to the eastern part of Ukraine. In the first scene of the film, we see two men at a girl’s birthday party. They are the girl’s father and step-father. The two talk about the war. The step-father, Andriy, is a soldier who has been to the front. The father, Serhiy, is a surgeon who is dealing with war injuries that overflow the military hospitals. Then we see the children at the party take part in a paintball battle. This is clearly meant to disturb us with such play happening in the midst of real war. Soon Serhiy is also at the front, where he is taken prisoner. In the prison, he experiences torture by the Russian commander. He also witnesses Andriy being tortured to death.

At the midpoint of the film, Serhiy is returned home as part of a prisoner exchange. This is an abrupt change in focus. Instead of seeing the horrors of war, we now return to the (then) more peaceful world of Kyiv, where children play in the snow. Serhiy’s ex-wife is worried because there has been no news of Andriy. Serhiy is trying to readjust to civilian life and deal with his PTSD.

One day when his daughter is staying with him, a bird flies into the apartment window and is killed. This event leads to some interesting discussions about death, the soul, the body, and afterlife. These are concepts that are just now becoming real for the ten year old daughter. For Serhiy, the concepts have a much different meaning. In a sense, he has already come through death (and perhaps a bit of Hell). Some of the conversations that Serhiy has with his daughter about the dead bird could just as well have been about Andriy.

Vasyanovych has designed each scene to be framed in such a way that we are drawn to watch. Even when horrific things are happening, we are unable to avert our eyes. He also makes each scene uncomfortably long, not letting us move on too quickly to something else. Even in the few scenes that are not done without a static camera, the framing keeps us centered on what is happening. Part of the director’s goal is to make us see the terrible things that happen in war. He also wants us to know that the aftermath of war can have its own harrowing effects, not just on those who are in the war, but the people they love as well.

There were times as I watched that I had a sense of sorrow, especially seeing Kyiv as a peaceful, happy city filled with life. That time is gone for Kyiv. As we watch now, we know that much of what we see has probably been destroyed or damaged by more recent fighting.

This is a film not so much about the fighting spirit of the Ukrainian people as about the suffering that the war has brought to them—and is bringing yet again. The wounds to the souls of soldiers and ten year old girls continue to cry out for healing.

Reflection is playing in select theaters.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.

Poupelle of Chimney Town – Conviction of things not seen

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“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for and the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1, NRSV)

Faith in the unseen is the driving force in Yusuke Hirota’s animated film, Poupelle of Chimney Town. It is a faith that seems ridiculous to some and dangerous to others. But for the boy at the center of the story, it is so strong that he must find a way to show the world the truth that has been hidden for centuries.

Chimney Town is a town filled with smoke belching chimneys that run day and night so that the sky is nothing but dark smoke, Lubicci is a young chimney sweep without friends. He remembers that his father Bruno would tell stories about what was beyond the smoke—a sky filled with stars. But there is no one in all of Chimney Town that has ever seen such an unlikely thing.

A bright object falls through the clouds and land in a trash pile, and transforms into a creature made of garbage. Lubicci befriends him and names him Poupelle. Together they dream of seeing the stars that Bruno spoke of. But the authorities are on the look out for anyone who speaks of stars or anything beyond the smoke. Inquisitors are constantly seeking out heretics who do not accept the official belief system. When the Inquisitors start coming for Lubicci and Poupelle, Lubicci comes up with a plan that can show the world the truth.

Lubicci operates out of faith. He knows that there is nothing to prove that stars really exist. But there is also nothing to disprove their existence. But such open-mindedness is a threat to the tyrannical regime that has created the world of Chimney Town. The stability of the society is built on accepting the key dogma, “There is no outside world; there is only this world.” As Lubicci lives out his faith in the unseen stars, he challenges the very fabric of the society. As such the story serves as a fable about speaking truth to power.

Faith, as we see in this story, can be an oppressive force, as with the Inquisitors who seek heretics. It can also be a liberating force when it opens a world to new ideas that may not seem obvious. Within the political world, there is a constant struggle to find truth among the massive amounts of “smoke”. No doubt those who buy into QAnon believe that they know the stars are behind the smoke of mainstream media. Others will see the conspiracy theories of QAnon as the smoke we must get rid of.

We can see the same if we look at religious life. Dogmatism and the thought that one group has the truth are always divisive and destructive.  Evanglicalism and broad ecumenism seem hard to put together. Multi-culturalism and diversity may seem to be smoke or they may be the forces that prevent calcified belief systems from obscuring our view of the truth.

Lubicci didn’t just speak of his faith in starts; he acted out that faith. It was through his actions that the truth had a chance to be known by all. And by acting on his faith, he discovered new depths within himself that allowed him to expand his world.

Poupelle of Chimney Town is available on VOD and will soon be available digitally and on DVD.

Photos courtesy of 11 Arts.

Anaïs in Love – Life of passion

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Does passion provide an adequate foundation for how to live a life? In Anaïs in Love, from director Charline Bourgeois-Tacquet, we watch a young woman who focuses her life around shifting passions that blow through her life. Does it lead to happiness? Will it ever last?

Anaïs (Anaïs Demoustier) is a thirty something student who is constantly behind on her thesis. Actually that lateness is one of the defining characteristics of her life. She is very frenetic, flighty, and egocentric. She is willing to dump a boyfriend when she feels a loss of passion. She jumps into relationships easily, but never seems to be willing to sustain them. Her fear of elevators leads to her meeting Daniel, who is much older and married. As their affair runs its course, she becomes entranced by a photo of Daniels’ wife Emilie. She begins what can only be described as a stalking relationship, following Emilie to a writer’s conference, while blowing off a conference she is supposed to be overseeing for her thesis supervisor. Can the wife of her lover be the true love of her life?

Anaïs has a lot in common with the character Julie in last year’s Oscar nominated The Worst Person in the World. Both young women are likable even as we watch them tear through relationships without much concern for the pain they may cause others.

The subject of passion comes up in various ways through the film. Anaïs’s thesis is about the portrayal of passion in 17th century literature. When her mother has a recurrence of cancer, Anaïs wonders if this bad news is because her parents have lost their passion. Even in her relationships, we see them as passion driven, rather than personal. She is willing to have sex with someone, but doesn’t want to sleep with anyone. She’s not even going to commit to a night together.

Watching Anaïs stalk and seek to win over Emilie, is a humorous misadventure, but it tends to underscore Anaïs’s irresponsibility, to the point that we can’t see how she is ever going to find stability in her life. Perhaps she can win Emilie’s love, but viewers are going to have a hard time seeing that this will be any different than all the other relationships that she has entered and left. While Anaïs is very likable, and we want her to find happiness, we keep waiting for her inner child to start growing up. It is only then that she will have hope of something more than the desire of the moment.

Anaïs in Love is in select theaters and coming soon to VOD.

Photos courtesy of Magnolia Pictures.

I Love America – Love and healing

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“Forgiveness doesn’t heal the wounds of the past; it transforms them.”

Lisa Azuelos’s I Love America is structured as a rom-com, but that is really just the pretty clothing put on to attract us to a story of grief and healing. In a sense it is a story of being lost and not knowing it. So it makes it all the more important to have been found.

Lisa (Sophie Marceau) is a fifty year old film director who has come to L.A. to write a screenplay, although there is much more going on in her life. Her children are grown, and her mother, a famous singer who abandoned her for a career, has just died. But this trip is not just business. When she is asked at immigration what the purpose of her trip is, she replies “I want to start a new life.”

On arrival she connects with her best friend Luka (Djanis Bouzyani), who has thrived in L.A. as the owner of a drag night club. Luka is determined to restart Lisa’s sex life, and sets her up on a dating app.  Luka has his own dating issues and while finding many partners, never finding one who will love him. But soon Lisa finds a great match in John (Colin Woodell). Their relationship grows quickly, but of course in true rom-com fashion, hits a serious roadblock.

But the film also flashes back frequently to Lisa’s childhood and teen years. Each of those flashbacks show us a bit of her sense of abandonment by her mother. Although she speaks of not feeling anything when her mother dies, we see in the flashbacks the great love she had for her mother, even if it wasn’t returned. This has become an important part of who Lisa has become, even if she doesn’t recognize it. A telling line (that isn’t emphasized, but clearly matters) is when she tells a date, “I created my kids to make sure somebody loves me in this world.” Perhaps it’s said in jest, but it is a very real sentiment. It reflects both her love for her mother and the lack her mother’s love.

As the film plays out, it is by embracing the feelings—both love and anger—that Lisa held for her mother that allows her to move on into new relationships that are based in trust and being trusted. She and Luka each learn that there is more to love that just immediate experience and connecting sexually with others. It is more important, they find, to connect emotionally. It is then that love can have a chance to bloom.

I Love America is streaming on Prime Video.

Fiddler’s Journey to the Big Screen

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Fifty years ago, the goddess of film criticism, Pauline Kael, called Norman Jewison’s Fiddler on the Roof “the most powerful movie musical ever made.” I wouldn’t dream of disputing that assessment. To be sure, Fiddler is not only among the most powerful musicals, but among the most emotionally powerful films. As the fiftieth anniversary has come, Daniel Raim’s making-of film, Fiddler’s Journey to the Big Screen, gives us a chance to took back on that film and remember just how powerful the story and the storytelling are.

(If for some reason, you have never seen Fiddler, by all means find a copy [libraries are often a good source of films] and spend three hours in the life of Tevya and his neighbors in early 20th Century Anatevka. Tevya is one of the finest theologians you will find in films. But that is the subject for a review of the original film.)

Jewison was recruited to produce and direct an adaptation of the hit musical, which in turn was based on a series of short stories by the Yiddish writer Sholom Aleichem. It is the story of a Jewish peasant dairyman in a Russian shtetel. He has five daughters, and he feels the pressure of having to marry them all off. But even more important, the story focuses on the changing of traditions and how we adapt to a world that is being turned upside down.

Fiddler’s Journey takes us through what was involved in making the film. It includes interviews with Jewison; John Williams, who adapted the music for the film; Topol, who played Tevya, and the three actresses who played Tevya’s daughters. This film serves as a good overview of the collaborative process that goes into making a film. It touches on how the casting was done, the changes that had to be made in the music, the production design, cinematography, and finding a location. Each of these pieces are important to the end product.

The last quarter of the film touches on what made the film important. The actors share what it meant for them to be part of this, but at a deeper level, we see that Fiddler spoke very much to the time it came out. That too was a time of upheaval and the challenging of traditions. Traditions have continued to undergo changes—from ideas of family, to the meaning of patriotism, to how baseball is played. As such, Fiddler is still a film that can speak to us.

One of the stories Jewison recounts is that when they asked him to make the film, he asked back, “What would you say, if I said ‘I’m a goy?’” The response was “What would that matter…. We want a film for everybody.” That reflects what Fiddler became. This story of a Jewish peasant in a far-off country is really a universal story—and a timeless on. The village name Anatevka from Fiddler became the name of a displaced persons camp in Ukraine a few years back. And as we watch the news and hear of new people being driven from homes, we know that the Tevya’s story is still going on.

Fiddler’s Journey to the Big Screen is showing in select theaters.

Photos courtesy of Zeitgeist Films and Kino Lorber.

Hatching – Nurturing an evil twin

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In the Finnish film Hatching, from director Hanna Bergholm, a girl from a seemingly perfect home looks for love in an unusual source, but it leads into a very dark and destructive place. It’s part horror film, part coming-of-age story, and part magical realism.

Twelve year old Tinja lives in what appears to be a perfect family: Father, mother, Tinja, and her younger brother. Her mother is an influencer with a vlog titled “Lovely Everyday Life”. Their home is tastefully curated with nothing out of place. Tinja is an aspiring gymnast, who can’t quite achieve the perfection her mother expects (and needs to fulfill the image of her vlog).

When Tinja finds an egg in the woods, she brings it home and secretly nurtures it in her room. There it grows and grows until it eventually hatches with a monstrous being. Tinja names it Alli. Tinja tries to keep Alli hidden, but as time passes, Alli looks more and more like Tinja.

The egg is not the only secret in the film. Tinja’s mother, that influencer of the perfect life, is really having an affair with a handyman, Tero. As perfect as Tinja’s family’s house is, Tero’s is completely the opposite. Tero is restoring a very derelict place. It is as chaotic and alive as Tinja’s home is neat and sterile. Her mother expects Tinja to keep all this secret from her father.

Meanwhile, as Alli grows we see evolution taking place as she becomes more like Tinja, as Tinja becomes more of a mother. There is even a sense in which Tinja’s eating disorder mirrors a bird’s feeding of its young.

The more Alli becomes physically like Tinja, we see an important difference: Alli has become something of an evil twin. Tinja is meek, but Alli is vengeful and violent. Tinja has been starved for love by her demanding mother; Alli has no love except for Tinja. When Alli begins to feel threatened or feels that Tinja is threatened, she acts quickly.

Adolescence is a time when it may seem that a child is evolving, not so much into an adult, but into a doppleganger. In the case of Alli, it is an actual person, not just a different personality within Tinja. But the film also works on the level of what Tinja is going through and how Alli is the answer to Tinja’s passivity in the face of a self-centered, deceitful, superficial, and unloving mother. The film leaves the conflict or integration of the two young girls unresolved, but to be sure, the troubles are far from over.

Hatching is showing in select theaters and will be on VOD beginning May 17.

Photos courtesy of IFC Midnight.

Sexual Drive – Food, sex, and love

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Food and sex are among our greatest pleasures. At times, they are intimately linked, especially in films. Sexual Drive¸ from director Yoshida Kôta, is built around the connection of sensuality the two share. It is part thriller, part sex comedy, and culinary adventure.

The film is made up of three vignettes, each titled after a culinary dish. The vignettes are linked by one common character, Kurita, who visits people and tells them things (which may or may not be true) about intimate things in their lives. In “Nattu” (a fermented soy bean dish), Enatsu is worried about the absence of sex in his marriage. Kurita comes and tells Enatsu that he is having an affair with his wife, going into graphic detail about the pleasure he brings her. In “Mapo Tofu” (a spicy Chinese dish), Akane suffers from panic attacks while driving. After (maybe) hitting Kurita with the car, he tells her they were in the same class in 2nd grade where she bullied him, and that her true nature is a bit sadistic. In “Ramen with Extra Back Fat”, Ikeyama is thinking about breaking off an affair. Kurita calls him from his lover’s phone claiming to have kidnapped her, and making him follow her journey after being rejected.

In each section, food is either eaten or prepared with a certain amount of eroticism. The “Nattu” section gets a bit lewd, but over all the stories are not so much about either sex or food. They are about what it means to find pleasure in another person. That is, what it means to love.

Food has often carried a sensual power in film. Some examples that come quickly to mind are Chocolat, Tom Jones, and When Harry Met Sally. Films often show hedonism in both the kitchen and the bedroom. And it becomes easy for us to make the not very long leap to connect the two.

So it is with Sexual Drive. As Kurita makes his visits with these people, he is a mixture of sex/relationship counselor, storyteller, and torturer. He brings hard truths to the people he meets, but in those hard truths are the way for them to find a happiness that is eluding them—and the people they love.

For viewers it is a reminder of the pleasures that fill our lives, but even more that the real pleasures of life are found in the people we love and share our lives with.

Sexual Drive is available through Virtual Cinema and VOD.

Photos courtesy of Film Movement.