A Traveler's Needs (2024)

Direction: Hong Sang-soo
Country: South Korea

In A Traveler’s Needs, another peculiar drama by Korean filmmaker Hong Sang-soo, a solitary French woman—aptly portrayed by Isabelle Huppert—teaches French in Seoul using unconventional methods, while her unknown past remains a mystery. Although she shows interest in her students’ feelings and emotions, she maintains an insouciant attitude, drinking makgeolli—a fermented rice alcoholic beverage—throughout the day. Frequently bored, her behavior is often perplexing as we try to decipher her motives.

This fleeting fable carries a certain poetic quality and an insinuating sense of adventure, but gradually loses momentum, becoming increasingly formulaic. It’s a fascinating cross-cultural experiment that eventually runs itself into the ground, recycling Sang-soo’s familiar patterns of conversational interaction. 

Huppert and Sang-soo’s third collaboration—following In Another Country (2012) and Claire’s Camera (2017)—is the weakest of the trio, an occasionally charming yet underdeveloped ode to friendship that meanders without clear direction. In truth, A Traveler’s Needs feels like an acting exercise stretched to feature length, with the multi-faceted Sang-soo handling direction, screenplay, cinematography, production, editing, and score.

Mickey 17 (2025)

Direction: Bong Joon Ho
Country: USA / South Korea

Mickey 17, based on the novel of the same name by Edward Ashton, is an ambitious but imperfect sci-fi blockbuster laced with black humor, social satire, and political bite. It centers on Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson), who volunteers to travel to a freezing planet as an “expendable”—a human whose body is cloned and reloaded with memories each time he dies. The planet is not only home to misunderstood alien beings called Creepers but is also governed by an authoritarian couple (Mark Ruffalo and Toni Collette) with bizarre, decadent tendencies.

The film, co-written and directed by first-rate Korean director Bong Joon Ho, doesn’t avoid some lengths and histrionics. One moment, it slips into a romantic soap opera that irritates more than it intrigues; the next, it evokes the spirit of resistance cinema—admirable in intention, but never fully realized in execution. Much like its protagonist, the narrative seems to reset every time it gains momentum, and the distinctly American brand of humor often feels bland or misplaced.

Mickey 17 ultimately falls short of expectations, and that is particularly painful given Bong's track record with masterpieces like Parasite (2019), Memories of Murder (2003), Mother (2009), and Snowpiercer (2013). Realism and caricature get locked in the same structure, and while the ballsy social commentary still holds up, the film never delivers the full-impact blow we hoped for. 

The New Boy (2025)

Direction: Warwick Thornton
Country: Australia

The Australian director, screenwriter, and cinematographer Warwick Thornton earned well-deserved attention, with engrossing dramas such as Samson and Delilah (2009) and Sweet Country (2017). His latest feature, The New Boy, centers on a nine-year-old orphaned Aboriginal boy (first-timer Aswan Reid) with mysterious healing powers. After being found in the desert, he is taken to a remote monastery run by the enigmatic Sister Eileen (Cate Blanchett, also credited as co-producer). She is aided by two Aboriginal converts to Christianity: Sister Mum (Deborah Mailman), a woman burdened by the loss of her children, and the reserved George (Wayne Blair).

There’s a certain coyness to A New Boy that suggests the film needed another draft, and its conclusion becomes unfavorably literal. While the film may strike a welcome chord for some for its portrayal of faith as both solace and a struggle, it largely fails to construct a compelling narrative arc capable to surprise.

By walking a super-thin line between grim believability and curious insensitivity, the film underutilizes its rich premise, becoming tacky and all too easy in spots. Thornton, who did much better in previous features, sacrificed tone for something more systematic and formulaic, but passed a clear message: Christianity triumphs imperatively. It’s unfortunate that this message arrives in a visually polished but vacuous package.

Blanchett’s reliably committed performance couldn’t redeem the film, though the evocative score by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis reinforces both the emotional and the unfathomable.

The Marching Band (2025)

Direction: Emmanuel Courcol
Country: France

The Matching Band, a comedy-drama co-written and directed by Emmanuel Courcol, navigates admirable humanism and warm emotion while exploring the fragile bond between two brothers who have only just discovered each other’s existence. Set in northern France, the story follows Thibaut (Benjamin Lavernhe), a successful 37-year-old conductor in desperate need of a bone marrow transplant, who also learns that he was adopted as a child. His only hope lies in contacting his biological brother, Jimmy (Pierre Lottin), whom he had never known. Despite their vastly different upbringings and lifestyles, the brothers find a shared language in music.

The Marching Band is an optimistic yet ultimately heartbreaking drama, elevated by a spirited score but marred by uneven performances—Lavernhe is more convincing than Lottin, who previously worked with Courcol in The Big Hit (2020). The film sometimes feels like a retread of familiar stories, revealing a degree of superficiality in certain areas. Its take on social determinism carries some heart, but despite its transparent staging, it lacks the raw urgency and piercing precision of Ken Loach’s realism. Instead, Courcol leans into light comedy and a saccharine tone that occasionally borders on condescension.

The plight of the mining community and its marching band, along with the romance between Jimmy and fellow band member Sabrina (Sarah Suco), feels underdeveloped—more like narrative filler than fully fleshed-out subplots. While the script doesn’t always ring true, the film ultimately lands with a powerful dramatic finale.

Companion (2025)

Direction: Drew Hancock
Country: USA 

By fusing elements of Ex-Machina, Black Mirror, and M3gan, Companion—a muddled sci-fi comedy thriller with a splash of gore—operates on artificial dramatic energies. Written and directed by Drew Hancock, the film follows a couple—insensitive and tactless Josh (Jack Quaid) and devoted, deeply-in-love Iris (Sophia Thatcher)—on a wild weekend getaway with friends at a remote cabin. Things take a dark turn when it’s revealed that one of them is a companion robot that can shift from vulnerable and needy to intoxicatingly confident and violent.

While Companion isn't a complete misfire, it delivers a middling cinematic experience, favoring familiar concepts over genuine wit and substance. The wobbly and misguided final acts fail to disguise the fact that the film doesn’t live up to its hype, even as it explores the horrors of toxic relationships and the looming ethical dilemmas of AI.

The biggest issue is the relentless sequence of twists, which attempts to keep the film engaging but ultimately feels exhausting. Though there are weird and amusing moments, the predictability and lack of originality reduce them to choppy, repetitive sequences. Despite Thatcher’s committed performance and the film’s fluctuating emotional beats, Companion remains a shaky, average effort devoid of real suspense—an interesting idea bogged down by a literal-minded, mechanical, and somewhat draggy execution.

Armand (2024)

Direction: Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel
Country: Norway 

Norwegian writer/director Halfdan Ullmann Tøndel, the grandson of actress Liv Ullmann and director Ingmar Bergman, makes his feature debut with Armand, a film steeped in secrets, lies, suspicions, and the complexities of troubled adult lives. Drawing inspiration from the works of Luis Buñuel, Tøndel crafts a tense narrative centered on Elisabeth (Renate Reinsve), an emotionally complex actor with a troubled past. She is summoned to an emergency meeting at her son's school, where allegations of potential inappropriate behavior by her 6-year-old son, Armand, toward his cousin are under investigation. Previous incidents compound the suspicions. 

The film's intrigue lies in deciphering whether Elisabeth, both neurotic and resilient, is genuinely vulnerable or merely playing a role. While the characters on screen may disappoint us in various ways, the film keeps a firm grip on its audience, pulling viewers into an emotional maelstrom reminiscent of a heavy Bergman-esque drama. 

A succession of uncomfortable and oppressive situations blurs boundaries and emphasizes moral ambiguities. However, the outcome lacks genuine surprise as the initial puzzle gradually falls neatly into place. Though the film is grounded in striking realism, dreamlike interludes choreographed with artistic intent periodically interrupt the narrative. Unfortunately, these sequences come off as ineffectual.

With dashes of dark humor, unnerving cynicism, and a striking lead performance, Armand grapples with superficiality without ever abandoning tension. Tøndel’s diligent filmmaking style captures the unsettling, but fails to deliver something more profound.

Sujo (2024)

Direction: Astrid Rondero, Fernanda Valadez
Country: Mexico 

Following their debut feature The Darkest Days of Us (2017), Mexican filmmakers Astrid Rondero and Fernanda Valadez reunite for Sujo, a coming-of-age crime drama. The story follows a young boy named Sujo (Juan Jesús Varela), who becomes a target of Mexican cartels due to his lineage. Forced to live in hiding, he eventually leaves the violence-stricken Tierra Caliente of Michoacán for Mexico City, seeking an escape from turmoil and a chance for a dignified and constructive life.

Presented in four uneven chapters, the film offers an innocent perspective on Mexico's drug-related violence. Its narrative fails to evoke a strong emotional connection with the protagonist, never finding deep wells of excitement in a whirlingly divergent romp blending vengeful cartel activity and imminent redemption.This lack of passion makes it difficult to become fully invested in a tale that gives you feelings and impressions, but roundly fails to sell itself as something deeper as its twists are not particularly surprising. Therefore, we ultimately come out of it more numb than fascinated. 

There's a glimmer of interest in the film's narrative contortions, and it's admirable that the directors have taken its subject seriously. However, it's just not thrilling enough. Despite its ambitious themes, Sujo leaves behind a sense of untapped potential.

Maria (2024)

Direction: Pablo Larraín
Country: USA / Italy / Germany

With Maria, which depicts the final week in the life of legendary American-born Greek opera singer Maria Callas, Chilean director Pablo Larraín completes his trilogy of biopics spotlighting women who shaped the 20th century. Following Jackie (2016), where Natalie Portman portrayed Jackie Onassis, and Spencer (2021), starring Kristen Stewart as Lady Diana, this film casts Angelina Jolie in a surprising and transformative performance as Callas. Jolie not only embodies the role with grace but also lends her voice to the singing. However, despite its poignancy, the screenplay— penned by Steven Knight (Dirty Pretty Things, 2002; Eastern Promises, 2007)—falters in delivering emotional resonance in pivotal moments. 

At 53, Maria lives in Paris, haunted by a traumatic childhood in Athens and the realization that her voice, once unparalleled, has faltered. Alternating between reality and imagination, she leans on her devoted butler Ferruccio (Pierfrancesco Favino) and housemaid Bruna (Alba Rohrwacher) for support. Flashbacks, rendered in stark black-and-white, vividly illustrate her turbulent teenage years and her fraught relationship with the charismatic but domineering Aristotle Onassis (Haluk Bilginer).

Filmed with grandeur and sophistication, Maria eschews melodramatic artifice but probably could've benefited from a little more energy in its telling. While polished and coherent, the drama feels predictably prepackaged. Larraín and Jolie keep the picture moving, yet struggling to showcase how the diva’s trauma and health decline affected her final artistic aspirations. 

The period details are meticulously crafted, and Ed Lachman’s cinematography is nothing short of stunning, but the staging constantly oscillates between elegant mannerism and calibrated realism. Maria is dispensable, and only Jolie’s masterful performance can make it a worthwhile watch for admirers of the actress and the opera icon alike.

Blitz (2024)

Direction: Steve McQueen
Country: UK / USA

British filmmaker Steve McQueen, celebrated for his unflinching dramas like Hunger (2008), Shame (2011), and the Oscar-winning 12 Years a Slave (2013), returns with Blitz, a wobbly wartime drama that tackles themes of racism, loss, and survival. Written by McQueen, this fictional story anchored in a brutal historical reality, is set during WWII in London, a city under relentless bombing by German forces. The protagonist is George (Elliott Heffernan), a mixed-race boy sent to the countryside by his mother Rita (Saoirse Ronan), in a desperate effort to keep him safe amidst the chaos.

McQueen's direction is distinguished by formal rigor and precise realism, but his film is less impactful than usual. Although effectively capturing the horrors of war and the anguish of separation, the film’s not completely free of academicism, its success hampered by an uneven intensity. It’s too manufactured for my taste, with a few scenes depicted in an excessively casual way to ring true. 

Despite a neat visual aesthetic marked by glossy frames of war destruction, the film gets lost in the multiplicity of its ambitions and tangled in conventional triteness and sentimentality. Blitz feels weighed down by its own limitations. In general, it doesn't transcend, and viewers may feel a little icky about the experience. 

Emilia Perez (2024)

Direction: Jacques Audiard
Country: France

Jacques Audiard’s tenth feature film, Emilia Perez, is a flamboyant Mexican extravaganza filmed in Paris. Originally envisioned as an opera, the film is a messy fusion of musical comedy, drama, and thriller, marked by its shifting tones. By turns delicate and brutal, the story channels the flair of Pedro Almodovar and Baz Luhrman, introducing gender issues, the role of women in modern society, and the dangerous world of Mexican cartels. It’s a risky and irreverent departure from Audiard’s usual style, seen in acclaimed works such as A Prophet (2009), Rust and Bone (2012), and Dheepan (2015). 

Sometimes inspiring, sometimes bordering on the ridiculous, other times sordidly melodramatic, the film follows Rita Mora Castro (Zoe Saldaña), a skilled lawyer grappling with professional dissatisfaction and moral conflict. Her dreams of a rising legal career are stifled by a firm more invested in laundering criminals' reputations than pursuing justice. However, she receives an unusual and lucrative proposition by Manitas Del Monte (Karla Sofía Gascón), a notorious cartel kingpin seeking to transform his life. With Rita’s help, Manitas transitions into Emilia Perez, embarking on a mission to incarcerate cartel leaders, locate the bodies of their victims, and reconnect with the family Emilia left behind. 

Emilia Perez is a cocktail of contrasting flavors, blending vibrant extravagance with somber undertones. The result leaves an odd taste in the mouth. While the premise is compelling, its execution feels uneven. The film occasionally soars with its bold storytelling but stumbles when leaning too heavily on its musical elements. Even the most lavish dance numbers come across as either forced or flat. 

Despite these flaws, there are redeeming qualities. Saldaña delivers a sensational performance, bringing depth and nuance to Rita, while Audiard’s ambition and willingness to take creative risks deserve recognition. Still, the film struggles to work as a whole, and I can’t say I found it exciting.

Beetlejuice Beetlejuice (2024)

Direction: Tim Burton
Country: USA

The much-vaunted return of Tim Burton, who rose to fame with films such as Edward Scissorhands (1990), Ed Wood (1994), and Sweeney Todd (2007), happens with Beetlejuice Beetlejuice, a visually inventive yet flawed sequel to his 1988 cult classic. Despite the 36-year gap, the original ‘80s vibe lingers in this formulaic work, whether you call it absurdist supernatural comedy or macabre dark fantasy or both. Michael Keaton returns, reprising his role as the trickster demon, as well as Winona Ryder as psychic Lydia Deetz, and Catherine O’Hara as her eccentric stepmother, Delia. The cast expands with Monica Belucci as a stitched-up, soul-sucking ghost, joined by Danny De Vito, Jenna Ortega, Willem Defoe, and Justin Theroux. Unlike the others, the latter two had never worked with the director before.

While packed with Burton’s trademark surrealism, the plot — scripted by Alfred Gough and Miles Millar — feels chaotic, marked by frantic pacing, loose subplots, and forgettable villains. The film tries to balance nostalgia for long-time fans with attempts to win over a new generation but often feels like a haphazard spectacle. Despite its energetic antics and quirky visuals, Beetlejuice Beetlejuice lacks the cohesion needed to truly captivate, leaving audiences dizzy yet unsatisfied. When the credits roll, you may feel you’ve spent 104 minutes in a world of Burton-esque antics, but without much of a payoff.

Megalopolis (2024)

Direction: Francis Ford Coppola
Country: USA 

After more than 40 years in development, Francis Ford Coppola finally unveils Megalopolis, an ambitious sci-fi epic he largely financed himself. The idea for this eccentric, dense film came to Coppola during the making of Apocalypse Now, raising high expectations. However, despite its long gestation, Megalopolis unfolds as a bloated soap-opera-like spectacle that struggles under the weight of its convoluted themes and sprawling subjects.

The story follows Cesar Catilina (Adam Driver), a brilliant yet enigmatic visionary with a controversial past and the ability to stop time. His grand ambition is to construct a utopian “city of the future” in New Rome. However, his dream faces fierce opposition from the city’s conservative mayor, Franklyn Cicero (Giancarlo Esposito), while he finds both love and support in Cicero’s daughter, Julia (Nathalie Emmanuel), a medical school dropout.

Though the film nods to cinematic classics like Brazil (1985), Metropolis (1927), and Dark City (1998), it feels soulless. Despite the weighty themes of political struggle, futuristic utopia, and satirical pop culture, the film feels surprisingly naive, a grab bag of ancient sci-fi ideas and plastic performances that fail to provoke. Copolla dedicated the film to his late wife but Megalopolis is already seen as the greatest disappointment of the year.

My First Film (2024)

Direction: Zia Anger
Country: USA

In My First Film, filmmaker Zia Anger, known for her music videos for alternative singer/songwriter Mitski, ventures into meta-cinema by reflecting on the failure of her first feature attempt. The story starts off pleasurably introspective with an indie vibe, but gradually burns our patience with redundant scenes that go around in circles. At 100 minutes, it feels much longer, and for good reason—the narrative gradually loses its grip, spiraling into a disappointing, self-indulgent conclusion. 

While some experimentalism is welcomed, and Australian actress Odessa Young does the best she can, the film becomes so taken with itself, that we have no option but disconnect from it. Is this a personal diary, a therapeutic hallucination, a fictional whim, or a cry for help? Perhaps all of the above. And it’s not incoherence that drags the film down but rather its exhausting execution, which ultimately fails to make us care about the characters. 

Anger, who briefly appears in the movie to thank her actress (or herself), showcases boldness that could bear fruit in future projects. But for now, I’ll have to pass on these supposedly dovetailed ideas about artistic creation and gestation as sometimes sitting through this film feels like chewing on cardboard—bland and disengaging, with both joy and sorrow strangely out of reach.

Longlegs (2024)

Direction: Oz Perkins
Country: USA

Written and directed by Oz Perkins, the elder son of late actor Anthony Perkins, famous for his role as Norman Bates in Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho (1960), Longlegs is a dry horror thriller tinged with occult malignancy that, despite its enticing premise, doesn’t hold up in the end. The film stars Maika Monroe and Nicolas Cage, who also produced.

The plot centers on the sleepless, cold, and often absent-minded FBI agent Lee Harkin (Monroe), the only person who seems capable of solving a series of massacres involving entire families as she’s gifted with psychic abilities. The perpetrator, known as Longlegs (Cage), is a satan worshiper who likes to leave coded messages based on complex algorithms next to the victims. What is more intriguing about him is that there are never any signs of forced entry into the houses. 

Longlegs rings hollow, quickly melting as its banal plot is unveiled. It is a sluggish exercise in horror that stands on its feet in its first half, just to nose-diving into the abyss in the second. The gloomy side of things is there, but thrills don’t abound, and it’s all too predictable toward a bland ending deliberately left open for a possible sequel. While Monroe stands out for her credible introspective temperament, Cage, looking like a cross between a decrepit heavy-metal legend and the Joker, delivers very few moments of creepiness. 

Films like Seven (1995) and The Silence of the Lambs (1991) may come to mind, but Longlegs is miles away from them in many crucial aspects, including originality. It’s all surface psychodramatics, sporadically watchable yet mostly inert. Hence, quickly forgettable.

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes (2024)

Direction: Wes Ball
Country: USA

This obscenely produced 10th installment in The Planet of the Apes franchise introduces a new hero having to endure trials to grow. Wes Ball, known for The Maze Runner trilogy, directed from a screenplay by Josh Friedman (War of the Worlds, 2005), and counted on Owen Teague, Kevin Durand, and Freya Allan in central roles.

While visually splendorous, showcasing grandiose empires built on ruins and impressive CGI scenes of attack and destruction, the film fails to deliver an inventive narrative and staging. This type of lavish fantasy is no more a cinematic provocation, generally falling short of excitement and occasionally resorting to sentimental bait. 

Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes loses substance, relying on reheated formulas disguised as modernistic ideas throughout its quicksilver flow. With so many issues permeating the story, the kingdom of the apes sinks like the Titanic. Our response to the apes’ sad fate, once touched by authentic tragedy, is now marked by relief that this chapter is over.

Monkey Man (2024)

Direction: Dev Patel
Country: USA / Canada / India

Dev Patel, the star of Slumdog Millionaire (2008), makes his directorial debut with Monkey Man, which he co-wrote with Paul Angunawela and John Collee. He also stars as the title character, a traumatized fighter seeking revenge for his mother's death. Jordan Peele, the director of Get Out (2017) and Nope (2022), is among the production credits, and the talented tabla player Zakir Hussein, known for his collaborations with jazz musicians, is part of the cast alongside Sharlto Copley, Vipin Sharma, and Sikandar Kher.

This neo-noir action thriller inevitably draws comparisons to John Wick and The Raid, but transports its violent rampages to India, encompassing themes such as poverty, caste injustices, discrimination of the Hijra community, cult of personality, and corruption. 

Behind the camera, Patel doesn't offer much originality beyond the specific cultural context. While the stunts are choreographed with wild athleticism, the relentless violence is exhausting, and the plot remains rudimentary. Watching this bloated and overlong film can feel as enjoyable as sitting on a cactus. 

There's unquestionably an audience here, and the film isn't completely terrible. It is just rather monotonous as the flimsy story fails to support the dramatic weight envisioned by its creators.

Lost Soulz (2024)

Direction: Katherine Propper
Country: USA

Lost Soulz, a low-key documentary-style road trip drama infused with hip-hop dreams, repressed guilt, and painful loss, marks the directorial debut of Austin-based filmmaker Katherine Propper. Featuring real-life Gen-Z dreamers, the film showcases ambition but struggles with narrative immaturity and editing issues.

Rapper and social media influencer Sauve Sidle portrays Sol, who leaves his unconscious, drug-addicted best friend behind to hit the road with a group of hip-hop musicians heading to West Texas. As expected, not everything goes smoothly, especially when emotional stability is fragile and drug use is involved.

Sol's guilt and inner conflict are not sufficiently emphasized, shifting the focus to the fun and minor tensions within the teenage group, resulting in repetitive scenes. Some characters are underdeveloped, while others stand out for their charisma. The movie’s final segment is the strongest, ending on a touching note.

You find yourself wanting to like what you see. Yet, Lost Soulz is more to be admired than enjoyed, with noticeable choppiness where fluidity was needed.

Challengers (2024)

Direction: Luca Guadagnino
Country: USA

Renowned Italian director Luca Guadagnino, whose work first came to the public’s attention with Call Me By Your Name (2017), probes a new hype style with calculated punchiness in his latest feature, Challengers, a meretricious and manipulative sports-meet-romance undertaking with a lackluster conclusion. 

Written by Justin Kuritzkes, making his screenwriting debut after gaining recognition as a playwright, Challengers stars Zendaya, Josh O’Connor, and Mike Faist in a tale of toxic relationships set against the backdrop of professional tennis. While emotional complexity, betrayal, rivalry, friendship, and sports pressure are intertwined in a non-linear narrative, the director struggles to overcome the challenges posed by this explosive mix. The tennis scenes are well-executed, but the love triangle feels like a mere curiosity, with insufficient dramatic motivation and coming across an oversexed triviality with soap opera traits. 

Additionally, the original score by Nine Inch Nails’ members Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross can be intrusive at times, and the finale, while intense, seems too fabricated. Ultimately, despite the promising setup, Challengers fails to fully capitalize on its potential. I don’t see it as a very grown up movie, and was craving for more clever twists in the plot. These charming threesome never hit the ball with enough ability to make it over the net.

Seagrass (2024)

Direction: Meredith Hama-Brown
Country: Canada

Seagrass, the directorial feature debut by Canadian actress Meredith Hama-Brown, is an uneven family drama centered on a decaying marital relationship exacerbated by recent loss. Rather than committing to a specific mood, the film explores various emotional territories, constantly obsessed with trauma both within both adult and youth realms. Hama-Brown also infuses a supernatural element in the story that fails to resonate.

In the wake of her mother’s death, Judith (Ally Maki), a Canadian of Japanese descent, and her husband Steve (Luke Roberts) seek marital therapy at a coastal retreat in British Columbia. Taking their two daughters - Stephanie (Nyha Huang Breitkreuz) and Emmy (Remy Marthaller) - with them, they still manage to find time to hang with regulars Pat (Chris Pang) and Carol (Sarah Gadon), who love to offer a bit of advice about everything. 

The doubts, confused feelings, and deep-seated disconnection that keep tormenting the lead character are valid, but Seagrass lacks groundbreaking originality, ultimately concluding on a disconsolately vague note after a powerful premise. Infrequently compelling, the film struggles with fabricated scenes and artificial musical moments, which only serve to heighten melodrama in a plot that simply doesn’t know where to go.

The Palace (2023)

Direction: Roman Polanski
Country: Switzerland / Italy / other

From the acclaimed director Roman Polanski, whose filmography includes gems such as Repulsion (1965), Chinatown (1974), Rosemary’s Baby (1968), and The Pianist (2002), comes The Palace, an oddball satire that starts off well but sloppily falls into a wild intemperance pelted with flat humor, bubbly champagne, and too much caviar for my taste. Set in the luxurious Gstaad Palace hotel in the Swiss Alps on December 31, 1999, Polanski’s 24th feature film follows a cast of wealthy and eccentric characters as they gather for the millennium amid fears of the Y2K bug. They range from socialites and aristocrats with abhorrent faces from plastic surgeries to broke tycoons showing off diva postures to rowdy heavy-drinking Russians with no principles.

The hotel’s dedicated manager demands politeness, precision, and perfection from his staff, only to get trouble, embarrassment, and eccentricity from the arrogant and selfish customers. Caught between a brainless parody and a more observant satire, The Palace works more in the line of The Triangle of Sadness (2022) than The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014). Hence, despite wrecking you with luscious hues, the film’s scenes are often overindulgent and lacking in moderation. While some viewers may find humor in its zany antics, others may roll their eyes. 

Gone are Polanski's signature style and wit, replaced by repetitive gags and scenes that feel more grating than gratifying. We understand it was all created with mockery in mind. However, there are so many aspects that failed to work properly in this disjointed comedy. The international ensemble cast includes Fanny Ardant, Mickey Rourke, John Cleese, and Oliver Masucci.