The Zone of Interest (2023)

Direction: Jonathan Glazer
Country: UK / other

In The Zone of Interest, British filmmaker Jonathan Glazer, known for Birth (2004) and Under the Skin (2013), delivers his finest film to date, a loose adaptation of Martin Amis' novel that rightfully earns the accolade of Best International Feature Film at the Oscars. This visually arresting and original work centers around the diligent Auschwitz commandant Rudolf Hoss (Christian Friedel) and his wife, Hedwig (Sandra Hüller), who reside in their idyllic dream house adjacent to the concentration camp. Shot on location, predominantly with natural light, the film masterfully juxtaposes the serene family life of the couple with the harrowing reality of genocidal atrocities occurring just beyond their property fence.

The characters’ examination is done patiently and incisively within a narrative that doesn’t rely on explicitness to convey its message. The film’s opening scenes are evocative of Jean Renoir’s bucolic A Day in Country, only to swiftly confront the audience with a different reality: the banality of evil. This is done with such a discretion it becomes creepy. There’s family and well-founded dreams on one side, and then selfishness, privilege, and indifference on the other.

Polish cinematographer Lukasz Zal, who previously worked with Pawel Pawlikowski in Ida (2013) and Cold War (2018), contributes to the film’s visual allure with exquisite compositional finesse and meticulous attention to detail. His framing effectively captures the narrative's haunting atmosphere, punctuated by dreamy sequences in negative black and white that offer glimpses of compassion amidst the darkness. Despite these brief moments, it’s all very disturbing and fiercely unsentimental. 

The Zone of Interest isn't your high-octane WWII thriller, emerging instead as a spellbinding and unsettling meditation on personal dreams and silent crimes. It’s a powerful and memorable affair that, offering a different perspective of the Holocaust, may feel oppressive despite the absence of explicit violence. Benefitting from impressive performances by the pair of German actors, Glazer portrays this drama with the dazzling smoothness of a movie-making natural.

All of Us Strangers (2023)

Direction: Andrew Haigh
Country: UK

In Andrew Haigh’s latest psychological and supernatural drama, All of Us Strangers, we follow the journey of Adam (Andre Scott), a homosexual screenwriter in his forties who gets in touch with his feelings after starting a relationship with a mysterious neighbor, Harry (Paul Mescal). As their connection deepens, Adam inexplicably finds himself connecting with their late parents (Jamie Bell and Claire Foy), who tragically passed away in a car accident when he was 12. Partially filmed in the house where Haigh grew up on the outskirts of Croydon, the film, based on Taichi Yamada’s 1987 novel Strangers, carries a personal touch that adds depth to the narrative. The inclusion of a 1980s soundtrack further enhances the nostalgic atmosphere.

This beautifully understated and unique film transitions from the mundane to the otherworldly with feverish quietness, offering a poignant exploration of solitude, trauma, grief, love, and the vagaries of time. It’s a well-constructed and nuanced drama that drips with bold visual aplomb and a subtle mysticism akin to disorienting, dreamlike states.

Haigh confirms the immense filmmaking capabilities and storytelling expertise previously showcased in films such as Weekend (2011) and 45 Years (2015). All of Us Strangers lingers in the mind long after the credits roll. It haunts you, and you’ll admire its conception while searching for answers. While the film may not provide easy resolutions, its ambivalent nature and mysterious allure make for a captivating viewing experience. Indeed, it stands as something special in contemporary cinema.

The Old Oak (2023)

Direction: Ken Loach
Country: UK

Ken Loach is an English director whose work we respected in full. His new drama, The Old Oak, is realism pushed to tears, a minor opus that deals with two topics: impoverishment in former mining towns and the arrival of Syrian refugees. How finely Loach has woven these thematic threads? 

While not packing the same punch as I, Daniel Blake (2016) or Sorry We Missed You (2019), the film intersperses lukewarm and powerful moments, evincing a softness that occasionally leans on pathos and sentimentality, diluting the impact of the narrative. Set in Durham, the story introduces Yara (Ebla Mari), a Syrian refugee with a passion for photography, who arrives in town just to be unconsoled with a broken camera and a less-than-welcoming reception. Already underwhelmed by crisis, some locals develop an unfounded xenophobia that translates into hate, lies, and betrayal. But there’s also kindness and compassion, which especially apply to TJ Ballantyne (Dave Turner), the broken yet goodhearted owner of The Old Oak, the sole pub in town, in urgent need of repairs. 

Paul Laverty’s screenplay doesn’t come with major surprises, while Loach’s direction is quietly effective as if the camera wasn’t there. Although navigating predictable territory, they keep tackling social issues deeply rooted in our time and transporting them to the screen with a naturalistic Emile Zola-like approach. It’s a lucid film that, hitting where is necessary, ends up uneven. The optimistic path may touch the viewers’ hearts, but the full complexity of the subject is not there. Yara is reduced to a functional role, her words of lament feeling more superficial than deep. Our hearts go to TJ, not Yara, a consequence of the film’s vulnerabilities.

The pair Loach / Laverty, who has been working together since 1996, leaves us at the doorstep of an intercultural consolidation one can only dream of. The intentions are noble but The Old Oak doesn’t really come off despite the painful dramas behind each character.

The Pigeon Tunnel (2023)

Direction: Errol Morris
Country: UK 

The Pigeon Tunnel lifts the veil on the life of David Cornwell, better known as John le Carré, the renowned author of espionage classics such as The Spy Who Came From the Cold, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, and The Constant Gardener. Weaving together sparse archival footage, newspaper articles, and re-enactments of Cornwell’s life episodes, this documentary frames a singular portrait of a man of mystery whose life inspired his literary masterpieces.

The notable documentarian Errol Morris, who excelled with The Thin Blue Line (1988) and Gates of Heaven (1978), takes on the role of interrogator and interviewer in a competent manner. However, despite an imposing score and enigmatic imagery, the film lacks a certain tension that one might expect from a spy-related narrative. Yet, the film compensates with interesting revelations and intimate details that will probably make fans and newcomers care.

The documentary delves into le Carré's complex relationship with his con artist father, Ronny, and mentions Kim Philby, a notorious spy for the Soviet Union and betrayer of the Queen, who held a deep admiration for le Carré's work. Its main strength lies in le Carré's secret life, shedding light on themes of betrayal, deception, duty, and morality. The eternal dance between manipulators and the subjugated is vividly portrayed, adding depth to the narrative. 

Although Morris' direction may be criticized for feeling somewhat static, there is a certain fascination in witnessing how le Carré, often labeled the ‘poet of self-hatred’, crafted novels that seamlessly blended imagination and personal experiences with unparalleled competency. The author died in 2020 at the age of 89.

The Lost King (2023)

Direction: Stephen Frears
Country: UK 

Although historically interesting, The Lost King is academic in many aspects, which is upsetting since it comes from Stephen Frears, an experienced director whose major works include Philomena (2013), The Queen (2006), Dirty Pretty Things (2002), and Dangerous Liaisons (1988). Stumbling in a faulty staging, this classically crafted film inspired by an incredible true story, tries too hard to please the audience, but it shrieks as it aims for that middle bar that pushes everything into comedic context. 

This is the story of Philippa Langley (Sally Hawkins), a mother of two with chronic fatigue syndrome whose determination and subjective intuition lead her to the spot where the cursed King Richard III was buried. His body had never been found since his disappearance in the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485. Guided by passion and obsession, and having fleeting dialogues with the ghost of the king (Harry Lloyd) while roaming through the streets of Edinburgh, she succeeded where many have failed.

Steve Coogan, who also stars as the protagonist’s supportive ex-husband, co-wrote this infinitely modest autobiographical drama with Jeff Pope, never missing an opportunity to adorn the situations with a dash of British humor. 

The dragging first half makes it harder for us to fully enjoy what comes next, and by the time the story reaches its climax, all my excitement has been drained away. All those cynical opportunists, tough sponsors, and difficult excavations don’t emanate enough tension, with Frears struggling to give a consistent rhythm to the storytelling as well as to find a distinctive style. One of those cases where the tedium outweighed the anticipation.

Chevalier (2023)

Direction: Stephen Williams
Country: UK

Acted and directed with poised energy, Chevalier is a biopic that chronicles the rise to fame and fall into oblivion of Guadeloupe-born mulatto Joseph Bologne (Kelvin Harrison Jr.), a brilliant violinist, conductor, composer, and swordsman who once embarrassed Mozart on stage, defeated all his fencing opponents, and fell in love with an unhappily married marquise (Samara Weaving) with a singing talent.

More often than not, this watchable drama film is expository of the racial discrimination lived in 18th-century France ruled by Marie Antoinette (Lucy Boynton) and marked by an arrogant aristocracy. The film exposes Bologne’s gifts, which made him chevalier of Saint-George, but also his constant struggles and personal ambition to conduct the Paris Opera, the highest musical position in France. 

Steeped in rich colored costumes and passionate emotions, the film - directed by Stephen Williams from a screenplay by Stefani Robinson - achieves a delicate osmosis between commercial film and auteur cinema. It’s a mature exploration of a big theme, hampered only by its simplified, conventional storytelling. Although this account deserves to be told - the past keeps looking at the present, in tatters - you can see where it goes from miles away. Yet, the actors never curtsies to caricature, and the film is worth seeing just for knowledge of its character and his moment in history. Pianist Kris Bowers, who also scored Green Book (2018) and King Richard (2021), penned the music.

Blue Jean (2023)

Direction: Georgia Oakley
Country: UK

Sharing its title with David Bowie’s great 1984 song, Blue Jean is Georgia Oakley’s feature debut, a lesbian-themed drama film starring Rosy McEwen as the title character, plus Lucy Halliday and Kerrie Hayes. 

In 1988 Britain under Section 28, a divorced PE teacher (McEwen) hides her homosexuality due to the fear of losing her job. But life changes abruptly when she stumbles upon Lois (Halliday), one of her 15-year-old students, at the gay bar where she often meets with her girlfriend, Viv (Hayes), and their friends.

Shot in 16mm, the film is met more often with “meh” than “wow” reactions, being a bit soapy in spots. It’s disconcerting how this potentially good story didn’t touch me a bit. While the importance of the topic slips up with the poor chemistry between the actors, every attempt by Oakley to make it guileless falls apart. It’s perhaps a little over-reliant on a script that is not particularly clever. 

Jean’s passive voice doesn't align with her true intentions and she desperately tries to mend the damage on every front. The filmmaker probably counted on the natural charisma of McEwen to make the difference, but it didn't suffice. Even if the agenda does come with good intentions, the developments are less daring than expected, making Blue Jean a shockingly dull work with which I wasn’t able to connect.

Enys Men (2023)

Direction: Mark Jenkin
Country: UK 

It’s only half-way into the story of Enys Men that things start to click. A non-linear structure intertwines flashbacks from other times and tricks of the mind, disorienting apparitions, strong symbology, unexplainable physical mutations, and a panoply of selected eerie sounds - all these aspects work toward emotional resonance in this heart-stopping folk horror film set in 1973.

A volunteer scientific researcher (Mary Woodvine) observes a rare flower and lichen on a desert island off the coast of Cornwall in South West England. She takes daily notes of her meticulous observations. Strangely, the more her mind tries to focus, the more it sinks into a ghostly nightmare that reveals tragic past occurrences. 

This is the sophomore feature and first foray into the horror genre by arthouse filmmaker Mark Jenkin (Bait, 2019), who wrote the script, photographed, edited, and composed the original score for the film. Shot in 16mm and presented in 4:3 aspect ratio, the grainy colored film feels somewhat minimalistic in the process but it’s never boring, scoring points against other similar folklore-inspired fictions.

Let me remind you that Enys Men, which means stone island in Cornish, is more about sustained creepiness than actual big scares. There’s this indelible sense of isolation, uncanniness and mystery enveloping a skimpy but relentlessly chilly mystery that ingrains the mind after it grabs the senses. Jenkin demonstrates remarkable artistry in the manner he handles the material, and will leave you guessing until the end.

Rye Lane (2023)

Direction: Raine Allen-Miller
Country: UK 

This heartwarming first film by Raine Allen-Miller is not a trifle. It’s a British romcom with a cool urban touch and modernly kitsch visuals that manages to deliver the requisite laughs and romantic heat. 

Dom (David Jonsson), a young accountant emotionally affected by the recent breakup with his girlfriend, exchanges a few words with the spirited Yas (Vivian Oparah) while in toilet partitions of a gallery. Minutes later, they meet in person and spontaneously decide to spend the day together. They will experience a few unexpected situations while walking leisurely through the Rye Lane Market - there's this weird lunch with Dom’s ex; a karaoke moment that starts embarrassingly regrettable and ends successfully motivating; a big quarrel whose apparent origin is the record The Low and Theory by A Tribe Called Quest; a scrumptious tortilla prepared and served by Colin Firth (a cameo appearance); and more. 

It’s easy to see there was no cut corners in the production values - customs, scenarios, props, and soundtrack are proper and appealing. Moreover, the two leads harmonize perfectly on screen, playing an endearingly light duet in tones of pink and violet. 

Sometimes Rye Lane wanders, almost with a carefree zeal, following a plot that, even sagging, has no decline in amusement. The viewers’ expectations are ultimately met, making us wonder what Allen-Miller is planning to do next.

Living (2023)

Direction: Oliver Hermanus
Country: UK

Living is an impeccable period drama handled by South African director Oliver Hermanus who, after the well-accepted Moffie (2019), brings us a re-reading of Akira Kurosawa's 1952 masterpiece Ikiru, which he transposes to the post-war London of the same period. 

In the first minutes, especially if you don’t have a reference of the original film, you might be inclined to think that the protagonist is Peter Wakeling (Alex Sharp), a young newcomer who joins his bureaucratic peers at the London County Council for his first day at work. But soon, we realize that the man to follow is his boss, Mr. Rodney Williams (Bill Nighy), a stiff, bored widower who does his job quietly without paying attention to the ones around him. His life suddenly changes  when he is diagnosed with a terminal cancer. From then on, unable to get the attention of his own family, this lifeless man decides to shirk work in order to live what he had never lived before. He confides in two persons: an insomniac bohemian writer (Tom Burke), who takes him partying, and Miss Harris (Aimee Lou Wood), a cheery former employee. 

Living is both inspired and inspiring. It’s also risky as it steps on classic territory. Yet, the core of the film is completely soluble in the contemporary with the exception of the piles of paperwork, which no longer apply to our technological era. 

Although this reflection works as a stinging satire of the bureaucratic mind-set of that time, the film’s best quality remains its emotional honesty. With an appropriate mise en scène and  technicolor photography giving it a deliciously old-fashioned charm, Living is a tastefully poignant story of deep human emotion wrapped up in a retro British wall covering. It’s sad, but in its awakening consciousness, it reminds us all that it’s never too late to embrace life.

Empire of Light (2022)

Direction: Sam Mendes
Country: UK / USA 

In Sam Mendes’ romantic drama, Empire of Light, we are transported to a coastal English town in the early 1980’s, where an old-fashioned cinema employs two outcasts with complicated pasts: Hilary Small (Olivia Colman), a duty manager struggling with mental illness, and Stephen (Michael Ward), a black young man originally from Trinidad who endures systematic racism. 

This is a well-intentioned, sometimes awkward effort that is hard to emotionally embrace in full. The director of Road to Perdition (2002) and 1917 (2019) handles the story with sobriety and pathos, but almost never manages to touch us. Not being particularly romantic and living from embarrassing situations, the film tells us how love and friendship can become an oasis in a cruel and violent world. 

The film is passable just because of another outstanding performance by Colman (The Favourite, 2018; The Lost Daughter, 2021), who puts up a frank smile and a depressive facial expression with the same disconcerting charm. Looking like a young Sidney Poitier, Ward (Small Axe: Lovers Rock, 2020) is not bad, whereas the incredible Toby Jones (Berberian Sound Studio, 2012) as a veteran projectionist, and the self-assured Colin Firth (A Single Man, 2009; The King’s Speech, 2010) as the cinema’s general manager, weren’t given enough space to shine. 

There are a few lovely things in this film that make it easier for us to forgive its shortcomings. But so you know, Empire of Light is no magic movie.

The Swimmers (2022)

Direction: Sally El-Hosaini
Country: UK / Syria / other

Sally El-Hosaini’s The Swimmers is an effective dramatization of the true story of two teenage Syrian sisters - Yusra and Sarah Mardini - who fled their country to the Greek island of Lesbos in awful circumstances. Once in Germany, their final destination, Yusra (Nathalie Issa) resumes her swimming practice and joins the Refugee Olympic Team in Rio de Janeiro, while Sarah (Manal Issa) opts to aid other refugees who had to go through the same hazardous journey across the Aegean Sea. 

There are moments of sadness, panicking, excitement, and joy to be felt; at the same time, the film brings out the exploitation exerted by the greedy human smugglers, as well as the multiple dangers the migrants are exposed to in route. Although never boring or pointless, the film deals with its own adversities, sometimes numbed by a few sloppy transitions and the need of extracting emotion from every scene. Maybe for that reason, the film may feel a little extended and gradually less intense as the clock keeps running. 

Having said that, The Swimmers could have been a sentimental film, but it's not, because El-Hosaini bothered to assemble a canny combination of elements that resulted more fruitful than was expected. Taking advantage of a neat production and strong performances, she puts the focus on the refugees’ problem and gives it extra seasoning with a personal conquest in sports.

Aftersun (2022)

Direction: Charlotte Wells
Country: UK / USA 

From the first sequence of Aftersun, the remarkable directorial debut by Charlotte Wells, when the 11-year-old Sophie (Frankie Corio) asks her dad, Calum (Paul Mescal), if his current life matches the one he dreamed of when he was her age, one can tell that something is wrong. Father and daughter spend some good time together in a resort in Turkey. It’s clear that Calum, who is in his 30s, will soon leave home and his family. Having a strong bond with Sophie, who shares a deep understanding of his volatile emotional states, he does everything to make their summer vacation perfect. But every little annoyance seems to affect him more than it should, and his mood darkens as the days go by.

There’s a languishing warmth here but also something so sad and melancholy that we feel it deep inside our chests. Watching this is like having a constant lump in your throat; memories that break your heart; a nearly consummate rendering of an affectionate remembrance. It’s a genuinely moving and mature film where the precision of feelings and the subtlety of the states of mind are precious. After acknowledging the success of the Scottish director, both in form and content, I felt the urge to revisit her film and extract more from the remarkable simplicity and delicacy with which is made. Everything here suggests an autobiographical story, but personal or not, the result is so complete and with a contemporary bent that the names of Joanna Hogg and Mia Hansen-Love crossed my mind.

Aftersun is a ripe, sensitive and slightly mysterious drama film served by great actors and crystallized by a rigorous staging and a deeper sense of observation. Evolving slowly but with enchantment, the film will reward patient viewers with its magnificent unfolding and nostalgic conclusion. Crediting Barry Jenkins, the director of Moonlight and If Beale Street Could Talk, as one of its producers, and boasting a stunning soundtrack, Aftersun is simply memorable at all fronts. The purity of look makes it a 2022 highlight.

The Eternal Daughter (2022)

Direction: Joanna Hogg
Country: UK 

Deftly written and directed by Joanna Hogg, who stunned us with works like The Souvenir (2019) and Archipelago (2010), The Eternal Daughter is a slow-burning study of loss and dependence. It’s a double role for the unmatchable Tilda Swinton who plays mother and daughter with unfailing consistency as they stay at a remote haunted hotel - once their former family home - where creaking doors, long dark corridors, rattling windows, and occasional ghostly figures create a chilly atmosphere that fades with the time. It spins its wheels with subtle psychological disturbance, which is a reflection of unhealthy filial ties.

The place revives all sorts of memories in the mother, and creates some emotional turmoil in the daughter, a filmmaker who is trying to write her next project based on their relationship. Although the rooms seem to hold stories and secrets, the process is somewhat repetitive. Whereas the eeriness decreases considerably, the climax falls victim of some momentary disclosing flashbacks that work as inhibitors of surprise. 

The outside night shots are intensifiers of the intended mood, as well as the ambiguous side characters - a carefree receptionist (Carly-Sophia Davies) and a gentle caretaker (Joseph Mydell) - who prove to be irrelevant in the end. And the apprehensive music soars, highlighting both enigmas and emotions.

Definitely a minor Hogg’s, The Eternal Daughter is like a poignant melody packed with pathos and a sumptuous staging; a purge of guilt and memories that, without taking the form of a labyrinth of artsy manipulations, never hits too hard. I wish I would have been more spooked here.

Lady Chatterley's Lover (2022)

Direction: Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre
Country: UK / USA

Embroiled in a sheer monotony that results from the director and the screenwriter’s lack of vision to adapt the famous D.H. Lawrence novel of the same name, Lady Chatterley’s Lover feels too darn old-fashioned for a contemporary audience. It’s a pointless and utterly forgettable misfire from French filmmaker Laure de Clermont-Tonnerre, whose directorial feature debut, The Mustang (2019), has drawn some positive reactions. 

The three main performances from Emma Corrin, Jack O’Connell and Matthew Duckett are so mannered that it's hard to feel anything but discouragement and ennui. The non-existent chemistry between the lovers reinforce the idea that this film is on automatic pilot. A romance that never catches fire within a dramatic plot that fails to innovate and engage. If you’re looking for a more exciting and cinematically engaging version of the novel, try Pascale Ferran’s, released in 2006.

Earwig (2022)

Direction: Lucile Hadzihalilovic
Country: UK / France / Belgium

This haunting, imminently methodic exercise directed by Lucile Hadzihalilovic is replete with pathos and stoic silences. A thread of disquietness infiltrates every pore of our skin while watching a taciturn, solitary middle-aged caretaker (Paul Hilton in an outstanding performance) employed to house-sitting a 10-year-old girl (Romane Hemelaers) in need of special dental care. 

The French director of Bosnian descent rubbed elbows with Geoff Cox (High Life, 2018) in the script, adapting Brian Catling’s beautifully written novel with dreamlike realism. Following the 2015 horror thriller film Evolution, this was the second time they worked together. 

From the very first minutes, we are captive to the bizarre enchantment of a psychological drama, whose style goes hand in hand with some deliberate narrative cloudiness. Occasionally erratic, it's still rewarding, with the abstruse tones and noir tinges evoking the worlds of Kafka, Murnau, Von Trier, and Borges. 

The early moments, slow but never discouraging, force one to search for more than what the eyes are seeing. It takes 24 minutes for the first line to be said, and then the ambiguity gradually dissipates until a final scene that, being so sad and ferocious, made me realize this wasn’t a passive viewing experience. 

Portending great things for the director, Earwig is somber and quiet, a canvas exquisitely painted with the talents of cinematographer Jonathan Ricquebourg (The Death of Louis XIV, 2016; Still Life, 2016), and with something undeniably effective about its creepiest moments.

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris (2022)

Direction: Anthony Fabian
Country: UK / France / Hungary

This third adaptation of the 1958 classic novel by Paul Gallico, originally titled Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris, ensures an over-the-top fun that other versions couldn’t manage to get. The plot, set in the 1950s, hinges on the scintillating performance by Lesley Manville (Another Year, 2010; Phantom Thread, 2017), who plays the eternally optimistic and good-hearted Ada Harris, a widowed residential housekeeper from London who falls head over heels for a haute couture Dior dress. This capricious circumstance takes her to Paris, where she meets Christian Dior in person, and befriends some of his employees. 

Here you have a gloriously enchanting old-fashioned tale retaken to the screen with polished and colorful new tones, balancing happy and sad moments with virtue. The story, depicted with a sweet retro flavor, takes unexpected poignant overtones along the way, but Manville simpers with affection, making every impossible dream come true with benevolence and soul. 

Isabelle Huppert is great as the snob Dior director, Claudine Colbert, and other on-target supporting roles by Lambert Wilson, Alba Baptista, and Lucas Bravo help to get the film out of the ordinary. Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris is both funny and full-bodied, pleasurable and bouncing. It’s the type of cozy, uplifting film that can easily brighten someone’s day.

The Phantom of the Open (2022)

Direction: Craig Roberts
Country: UK

The Phantom of the Open is a biographical sports comedy based on Maurice Flitcroft, a British crane operator turned golf star in the 1970’s, and not because he was good at it! Both a dreamer and a tenacious optimist, Flitcroft was miraculously accepted to participate in the 1976 British Open Golf Championship without being a professional player. He made history in his first participation, becoming the worst player of the tournament with a score of 121. Despite being ridiculed by some, his unshakable confidence and courage made him a popular hero known as the people’s golfer. 

Mark Rylance (The Outfit, 2022; Bridge of Spies, 2015; The BFG, 2016) plays this big dreamer with a low-key profile and inspiration, capturing the imperturbable charisma of the man; Craig Roberts (Eternal Beauty, 2019) directed from a script by Simon Farnaby, who had previously co-written a biography book about the subject with Scott Murray. Bearing the tones of the old classics, the film feels somewhat old-fashioned in its approach, biting the dust in its vain attempt to turn an undeniable great story into an unforgettable cinematic experience. Despite the lucid storytelling, the chronicle was ordinarily transferred to the screen by Roberts, whose big ladle of easy sweets and tough dreams went too sentimental in places. 

In the absence of a formal audacity, the result, limited yet not unpleasant, comes without surprise: a finger of golf, talented actors (Sally Hawkins plays the golfer’s affectionate wife; Rhys Ifans embodies the then secretary of The Royal & Ancient Golf Club) and 105 minutes of popcorn movies.

Flux Gourmet (2022)

Direction: Peter Strickland
Country: UK

Whoever is acquainted with the work of British auteur Peter Strickland knows that each new work is a challenging sensory stimulus. Not afraid to take risks, he gained notoriety with the odd Berberian Sound Studio (2012), solidified his cult status with The Duke of Burgundy (2014), and was absolutely fabulous in the way he conceived In Fabric (2018), perhaps my favorite of his delirious digressions. Now, with Flux Gourmet, he offers another psychedelic experience; a dark comedy that, intersecting gastronomic revolution with experimental performance art, takes the form of a sharp-witted satire with diverting characters full of peculiarities and an uncontrollable thirst for control and power.

The plot follows a collective that unleashes extravagant culinary performances - known as sonic catering - during a residency at a prestigious, if obscure, art institution. More disturbing than finger-licking, this transgressive absurdity will frustrate some and enchant others. Structurally interested in Pasolini’s Salo, the director prepares a special meal that is not for everyone’s taste. We can almost feel the fetid odors in the air over the course of nearly two hours. Notwithstanding, if you’re into quirky films whose plots you can’t predict, then go for it with confidence. 

It’s eccentric, noisy, provocative, and punchy in the social commentary; the visual aspect is disciplined; the sound processing is disorienting; and the ensemble cast is simply phenomenal (what an off the wall chemistry between Asa Butterfield and Gwendoline Christie). A bit out there, indubitably, but totally worth a watch if you're into gritty cinema.

True Things (2022)

Direction: Harry Wootliff
Country: UK 

The toxic relationship depicted in True Things might not be a mind-blowing experience since it was seen many times before, but the up-and-coming director Harry Wootliff’s debut feature makes us expect even better things from him in the future. 

The idea of adapting Deborah Kay Davies’ novel came from the Golden Globe-winning actor Ruth Wilson (The Affair TV series, 2014-19; Jane Eyre TV mini series, 2006). Here, she embodies Kate, a lascivious if lonely thirty-something woman living in an existential vacuum. In an instant, a casual sexual episode with a complete stranger (Tom Burke) takes her to a state of ecstasy with the possibility of settling down while being truly loved. In such a way that she may not be able to figure out the obscure intentions of this man and manage to ward off his injurious exploitation. 

This mindfulness of doomed romance and life disorientation is very real, and the two aspects are intelligently combined. The pathos and uncertainty are so strong in Kate’s subjugation that we should definitely see this experience as a possibility to grow. And yet, this rather desperate vision of love leads the protagonist to a dangerous abyss. By judging her previous behavior, it’s inevitable to think about the worst. 

The film’s soundtrack includes “Rid of Me” by PJ Harvey, which plays in a key moment of the narrative, and we cannot deny the deep involvement of the actors in the job, especially Wilson as an erratic soul craving for love and exhausted by anguish and doubt.