Digger (2021)

Direction: Georgis Grigorakis
Country: Greece

Greece is a country with firm cinema signatures, going from the political/philosophical statements of Theo Angelopoulos to the provocative irreverence of Yorgos Lanthimos to the fresh contemporary spins of Athina Rachel Tsangari. Sad to say that Georgis Grigorakis doesn’t present us with sufficiently interesting material in his debut feature, Digger, to earn a place among these winning filmmakers. 

His film centers on a father and a son who haven’t seen each other for 20 years, joining forces in the woods to fight a greedy mining company that wants their land for profit. Even offering its own details, the story isn’t exactly new. The initial prospect was wasted to a point where I was unable to connect to any of the characters. It’s a cold movie that hardly got a reaction out of me as it brings few emotional instincts to its subject. 

The relationship between Nikitas (Vangelis Mourikis), a solitary aging man who loves nature, and his estranged son, Johnny (Argyris Pandazaras), a motorcyclist who left Creta to claim his share of the inheritance, never felt strong and genuine. Aggravating this, there’s an insipid romance and time-consuming interactions at local bars that, after misleading us into some kind of tension, end up ineffective. 

The plot - written from a story by Grigorakis, Mourikis and Maria Votti - is so torpid that it sinks deep in thick muddy waters in no time; a burden that, hampering a fluid storytelling, makes Digger a mediocre movie with a stubbornly resistant message.

Azor (2021)

Direction: Andreas Fontana
Country: Switzerland / Argentina / France

Meticulously observed and presented with a pronounced sense of discomfiture, Azor is a perceptive, slow-burning thriller that exposes a fragile Argentina in the middle of a bank crisis and torn apart by an austere dictatorship. 

The year is 1980. Yvan De Wiel (Fabrizio Rongione), a Swiss private banker from Geneva, arrives in Buenos Aires with his supportive wife, Inés (Stephanie Cléau). His purpose is to regain the trust of his clients after the sudden disappearance of a charismatic partner, René Keys (Alain Gegenschatz), while operating in the city. Displaying hopes and insecurities along the way, De Wiel soon learns about the rumors that Keys was eccentric and depraved. He brings a list of important contacts with him, including the confrontational Anibal Farrell (Ignacio Vila), the accessible widow Lacrosteguy (Carmen Iriondo), the bitter Augusto Padel-Camon (Juan Trench), the risk-taking Monsignor Tatoski (Pablo Torre Nilson), and a mysterious person called Lazaro. What’s great here is that one has to slowly dig for answers until reaching a final conclusion. 

Among many admirable aspects, I’m hopelessly smitten with the filmmaking process, which makes every scene subtle, methodical and unnerving. I’m compelled to mention that this is the first feature by Andreas Fontana, and under his command, the film unfolds through realistic, powerful acting all around. Yet, acting-wise, it’s Rongione (the Belgian actor who earned credibility with the Dardenne Brothers) who stands out, breathing honesty while portraying a sober and attentive gentleman. 

Azor is an intriguing and fascinating account with a few crossroads and an unimaginable finale. It’s one of the year’s most cohesive films, and it holds up to repeated viewings.

The Whaler Boy (2021)

Direction: Philipp Yuryev
Country: Russia 

Skating between wry social drama and coming-of-age delirium, this drama, set in the small whaling village of Chukotka (Russian Far East) and fleshed out by idyllic landscapes, depicts a tough reality with a few ultimate brushes of surrealism.

It tells the story of Leshka (Vladimir Onokhov), a 15-year-old whale hunter who gets hooked on an adult webcam site, developing an obsession with a model from Detroit with the nickname HolySweet999 (Kristina Asmus). To be with her, he can go against his teasing best friend, Kolyan (Vladimir Lyubimtsev), and even attempt a dangerous solo journey to Alaska. By the time he arrives on a deserted island, the improbable happens and the film weakens considerably from then on. 

What makes The Whaler Boy work comes in part from the tension of the plot as well as from the information brought to us from a place we've never been. It plays both with the stoicism of the people living in this forgotten part of the world and the traps of the Internet. 

The first feature by Philipp Yuryev is not devoid of flaws or impediments, but left me curious about what will be the next move for this Russian filmmaker. The non-professional actors did a modest yet acceptable job, and there are some mesmerizing images captured and framed in a square 4:3 format that are something to thank for.

The Tender Bar (2021)

Direction: George Clooney
Country: USA 

George Clooney’s The Tender Bar was adapted from the 2005 best-selling memoir of the same name by J.R. Moehringer, recounting the American journalist and novelist's first twenty years on Long Island. Through this new effort, Clooney aspires to hit a curve ball he has been missing since 2005 with Good Night, and Good Luck. He only succeeds here due to the immense charisma of Tye Sheridan (Mud, 2012; Ready Player One, 2018), whose spontaneity as J.R. beats that of Ben Affleck (Gone Girl, 2014; Argo, 2012). The latter plays the protagonist’s cool bartender uncle with no brilliancy.

From a young age, J.R. (sensitively played by debutant Daniel Ranieri) struggles with the absence of his neglectful father (Max Martini), an alcoholic radio host. At 11, he and his mother, Dorothy (Lily Rabe), move into his insolent yet supporting grandfather (Christopher Lloyd)’s house. But it’s uncle Charlie (Affleck) who becomes the elected father-figure; whether at home or at the bar, he teaches him a few useful lessons for life. 

The film, carried out with a generically feel-good posture despite J.R.’s romantic and professional disillusions, needed more depth. I wish it could be crispier rather than softly chewy as its formulaic elements weave into a celebration of nostalgia. Nevertheless, this story denotes a tighter focus than Clooney’s previous effort, The Midnight Sky (2020), and manages to minimally connect at an emotional level. Even with its unsurprising plot oscillating continuously, the result is an optimistic and sympathetic film made stronger by an irresistibly gleaming 1970s soundtrack.

The Lost Daughter (2021)

Direction: Maggie Gyllenhaal
Country: USA 

Maggie Gyllenhaal is best known as an actress (Secretary, 2002; Crazy Heart, 2009; Sherrybaby, 2006) but turned director last year with The Lost Daughter, a psychological drama that deals with motherhood, depression, and life choices. The film, an adaptation of a novel by Elena Ferrante, stars the phenomenal Olivia Colman (The Favourite, 2018; The Father, 2020) in the central role, Jessie Buckley, Dakota Johnson, Ed Harris, and Gyllenhaal’s husband, Peter Sarsgaard. 

Leda Caruso (Colman), a middle-aged professor from Cambridge, Massachusetts, takes a break by the sea, spending a few summer days in Greece. While at the beach, she observes everyone around her, but her gaze stares at a three-year-old girl and her beautiful young mother, Nina (Johnson), in whom she finds fragments of herself. Leda is deeply affected by remorse and shows a seemingly incomprehensible behavior that can be funny, sad and monstrously quirky at the same time. She can leave a subtle sense of discomfort lying around, and that works well as the oppressive stuff here is often disguised as lighthearted. The narrative holds our attention with flickering stimuli to the point that’s difficult to tell where the story is heading. That’s where most of the film’s spell lives.

Gyllenhaal’s storytelling process intertwines recent events with a mix of painful and thrilling flashbacks, keeping The Lost Daughter steady for most of its time. In some cases, the dramatic intensity doesn’t reach the expected levels - like in the very last interaction of Leda with Nina - but the film provides delicate material for thought and discussion. While the slow build of the story functioned properly, there was also a suddenness to some events that was extremely captivating. And then, Ms. Colman does the rest.

Yalda, a Night For Forgiveness (2021)

Direction: Massoud Bakhshi
Country: Iran

Hyper-dramatized and crippled by a slender script, Yalda, A Night for Forgiveness exposes some of the shameful breaches of the Sharia law through a humiliating situation. Maryam (Sadaf Asgari) - a jailed 22-year-old Iranian woman accused to kill her 65-year-old husband for money - is led to a widely popular reality show where she can escape the death penalty if granted pardon. The only person who can give her life back is the upper-class, if indebted, Mona (Behnaz Jafari) - the only child of the deceased - who, although resentful and arrogant, considers the forgiveness just to receive the blood money.

This situation is peppered by the fact that Maryam, who was pregnant at the time of the tragedy, ended up losing her baby. Highly agitated and impatient, she claims it was all unintentional instead of playing her ‘role’ for the audience. 

The writer-director Massoud Bakhshi actually inspired himself in a real Iranian talk show called “Honeymoon”, giving the film airs of a documentary (there’s three in his five-piece filmography) that rings untrue. I felt the story was being narrated as someone who stutters while speaking. It was hard to connect with the central character since the director is quick to stimulate the mind but not the heart. His idea turned out too formulaic in its curvilinear dramatic arc to convince. 

Among scenes that feel whether awkwardly forced or dragging, Yalda only scarcely produces some excitement. It’s an unpassionate, conventional and timid work, which I’m not prepared to forgive.

Luzzu (2021)

Direction: Alex Camilleri
Country: Malta 

Inspired by De Sica and Visconti, the Maltese-American director Alex Camilleri captivates our attention with his well-shot feature debut, Luzzu. This film - part social commentary and part domestic drama - displays a powerhouse slice of Maltese fisherfolk life, being titled after the multicolored wooden fishing boat typical of Malta. Owning one of these, Jesmark (played by real-life fisherman Jesmark Scicluna) struggles financially as the fishing business is dominated by black-market operations. 

His leaky luzzu needs a proper fix, forcing him to stop an activity already underpaid. His wife, Denise (Michela Farrugia), who works as a waitress, is basically the one providing for the family. In a time when their newborn needs medical attention, this is all very anguishing to Jesmark, who has two options: joining the illegal operations of the black market or breaking the generational cycle of his family by accepting an EU payout to decommission his boat and quit the fishing business permanently.

Luzzu clearly conveys what Camilleri had in mind through powerful images and feelings. The filmmaker keeps it real by presenting a plainly spelled-out sequence of events that first infuriates and then makes you think. It’s all filled with dramatic heft, moral shading, and a palpable ring of truth that reflects the bitter change of times, the progressive loss of tradition, and the rampant viciousness of capitalism in a dehumanizing atmosphere that will leave no one indifferent.

The Novice (2021)

Direction: Lauren Hadaway
Country: USA 

Rowing seems a fun sport but not as it is exposed in The Novice, a psychological drama directed by Lauren Hadaway, who worked as a sound editor in Damien Chazelle’s Whiplash (2014). Her first directorial effort is a somewhat sardonic and unsentimental take on obsession and mental disturbance that initially magnetizes and then drops us midway. 

The plot centers on Alex Dall (Isabelle Fuhrman), a freshwoman who joins her college’s competitive rowing team. Obsessively determined to be the best, Alex pushes her physical limits at the same time that she embarks on a lesbian romance with her teacher’s assistant, Dani (Dilone). 

Hadaway brings it to the point of collapse with an unflagging ability to capture the intriguing protagonist’s mind. It’s what surrounds the central character that fails to give the story a better sequence to its stimulating start. This character study lacks resonance in crucial parts to stick with you after the end.  

Still, there's this tightly controlled performance by Fuhrman, who shows to have more acting skills than those demonstrated in Orphan (2009). This year, she was also featured in The Last Thing Mary Saw, a period horror flick directed by the debutant New York-based Italian director Edoardo Vitaletti.

The technical aspects are generally favorable, but if the photography enchants with its dusky hues, then the score, which plays a big role in setting the shadowy atmosphere, feels more invasive than assisting.

Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)

Direction: Jason Reitman
Country: USA

A fetching nostalgic triviality is the first thought that came to my mind after watching Ghostbusters: Afterlife. The director Jason Reitman (Juno, 2007; Whiplash, 2014), who shares writing credits with Gil Kenan, gives the best course to what his father - Ivan Reitman - began in 1984 with the first installment of the saga. In the same way, the central character, a 12-year-old scientist called Phoebe (Mckenna Grace), follows the footsteps of her deceased grandfather, the legendary ghostbuster Egon Spengler. She continues his legacy with the help of her brother Trevor (Finn Wolfhard) and local classmates Podcast (Logan Kim) and Lucky (Celeste O'Connor). 

With the background changing from New York to Oklahoma, the new ghostbusters - fully supported by Phoebe’s mom, Callie (Carrie Coon), and a technology-enthusiastic teacher, Gary Grooberson (Paul Rudd) - chase down an insatiable Muncher, red-eyed demons, and the ancient eldritch Gozer the Gozerian (Olivia Wilde). 

The nostalgia of the 1980s is revived with an old-school narrative and a genuinely adventurous predisposition. Moreover, it’s the electrifying and occasionally touching encounter between the four kids and the three veteran ghostbusters (Bill Murray, Dan Aykroyd, Ernie Hudson) that gives the story a good stir. Harold Ramis, who played Spengler in the first two installments, passed away in 2014; Reitman pays him a beautiful tribute here.

The supernatural representations incorporate crazy-busy special effects but Reitman counterbalances that setback with cutesy scenes congested with inventive detail. Although basic, the whole can be pretty entertaining as a result of a certain magical candor and a few funny lines.

Antlers (2021)

Direction: Scott Cooper
Country: USA

Produced by Guillermo Del Toro (Pan’s Labyrinth, 2006; The Shape of Water, 2017) and directed by Scott Cooper (Crazy Heart, 2009; Black Mass, 2015), Antlers is an average exercise in horror that mixes indigenous folklore and modern psychology. A solid story would be vital to make the combination work but the director, more inventive in the action and drama genres, doesn’t have one because Antlers has not much to chew on. Unfortunately, a couple of gory scenes doesn’t make for a contrived screenplay and a saturated mood that requires freshness. 

The story, co-written by Cooper, C. Henry Chaisson and Nick Antosca from a short story from the latter, is set in a small mining Oregon town where a series of gruesome deaths occur. The local authorities, represented by Sheriff Paul Meadows (Jesse Plemons), doesn’t have a clue about what could be so ravenous for human flesh. However, the sheriff’s sister, Julia (Keri Russell), a traumatized teacher, suspects that one of her students - the shy Lucas Weaver (Jeremy T. Thomas) - is being abused. In her mind, his junkie father might have something to do with the case. Willing to protect the kid, Julia follows him home, where a dark secret lies hidden.

The film doesn’t have the scope to match its visual craft, and one of its biggest sins is relying on the predictable mechanisms of the horror narrative. Cooper is also unable to deliver real jolts; it’s a pity that, having a wendigo (a demonic creature that originates from Native-American myth) as the source of this fantasy, so little mystery and tension were delivered. I suppose we have seen this too many times before to be frightened.

The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021)

Direction: Joel Coen
Country: USA

The peerless American filmmaker Joel Coen (Barton Fink, 1991; Fargo, 1996; No Country For Old Men, 2007) goes solo for the first time in The Tragedy of Macbeth. Apparently, his brother Ethan resolved to retire from making movies, if not forever, at least temporarily. Shakespeare’s Macbeth is a widely known tragedy that has been taken to the screen by equally adroit directors such as Orson Welles (1948), Akira Kurosawa and Roman Polanski (1971), who, with their own vision, depicted the ambition, guilt, fate, and human suffering that mark the work.

The plot here remains unaltered, but this stylistically somber version got all the moments one would wish for, becoming a vehicle perfectly tailored for Coen’s peculiar eye, Bruno Delbonnel’s finely calibrated black-and-white photography, and strangely captivating performances by Denzel Washington as the powerful Scottish general-turned-tyrant Macbeth, and Frances McDormand as his scheming wife.

Wisely framed, the film is a feast of oblique catches, unexpected architectural forms, and misty Scotland landscapes where the characters appear and disappear in the fog. The minimal settings make the characters look like giants in huge empty rooms; their shadows projected on the walls to a creepy effect. Viewers are, in this sense, subsumed into Coen’s perspective, having the opportunity to enjoy entrancing moments of wicked conspiracy, madness, and ruthless killing. 

The Tragedy of Macbeth is at once wonderful and exasperating; a demented and beautiful delight shaped with risk-taking boldness and considerable maturation in the proceedings. As the Witches would say, “seek to know no more” and watch the film yourself.

Licorice Pizza (2021)

Direction: Paul Thomas Anderson
Country: USA

The distinguished writer-director Paul Thomas Anderson (Magnolia, 1999; Punch-Drunk Love, 2002; The Master, 2012) returns with a romantic comedy that tells the story of Alana Kane (Alana Haim) and Gary Valentine (Cooper Hoffman - the son of Philip Seymour Hoffman), two teenagers who, despite the 10-year age gap, fall in love in the San Fernando Valley in the ‘70s. 

Whereas Gary is an ambitious child actor and precocious entrepreneur, Alana is a Jewish girl who works for the photography company Tiny Toes. Their relationship is constantly marked by ups and downs, often prickled by jealousy and put to a test by some idiosyncratic appearances that include the untamable producer Jon Peters (Bradley Cooper), the vain Hollywood actor Jack Holden (Sean Penn), and the secretive politician Joel Wachs (Benny Safdie). 

Licorice Pizza airs that sense of freedom typical of the Flower Power but fails to satisfy as a narrative. The ninth feature in Anderson’s filmography is meandering and disperse and much less ambitious than his previous films. It’s a complex romantic rollercoaster that occasionally enchants and often disappoints in its multiple childish behaviors and adult poses. There’s so much frivolity going on, but no chemistry between the leads (they literally run like crazy here), little emotion and unremarkable focus. It might well leave you cold in the end.

The nostalgia, however, was so strong for Anderson that he named the film after a former chain of record shops in southern California. This could have been magical if not too thinned out by peculiar isolated situations whose interest oscillate immoderately. It's one of those cases where the intentions are awesome and the result disjointed.

Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021)

Direction: Jon Watts
Country: USA

With an ingenious plot by the regular team of writers Chris McKenna and Erik Sommers, Spider-Man: No Way Home stretches the bridges between different generations of viewers, being the most genuinely surprising new release within the Marvel genre I've seen in a long time. It is a considerable improvement over its predecessors - Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) and Spider-Man: Far from Home (2019) - both also directed by Jon Watts, who does his best job with the superhero here.

In this sequel, we have a teen Peter Parker (Tom Holland) disclosing his identity as Spider-Man, becoming the most famous person in the world, and fighting a bunch of invaders (among them are Willem Dafoe as Green Goblin, Jamie Foxx as Electro and Alfred Molina as Doctor Octopus) that come after him in a sequence of an imperfect magic spell. Some of them are treacherous and dangerous opponents whose super-powers need a lot of acrobatics and stamina to be dominated. The novelty is that two other Spider-Mans (Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield) arrive from parallel universes. There’s also the precious help of the mystic Doctor Strange (Benedict Cumberbatch) and, on an earthly plan, Parker’s girlfriend, MJ (Zendaya), and his best friend, Ned (Jacob Batalon). 

What makes this Spider-Man so satisfying comes in large measure from the lucidity of the narrative, the quality of the villains, and an enjoyable balance of action, humor and emotion. Unlike other Marvel undertakings, this one never feels too crowded and - clocking in at 150 minutes - it never bores. The film is stripped to the essence of what a comic book movie should be, without renouncing to ineffably dynamic fighting sequences and stunning special effects.

Being the Ricardos (2021)

Direction: Aaron Sorkin
Country: USA

Being the Ricardos is a tedious, flawed biopic centered on the actress Lucille Ball and her musician husband Desi Arnaz - played by Nicole Kidman and Javier Bardem, respectively - two esteemed figures in the 1950s, thanks to I Love Lucy, a prime time television sitcom that aired on CBS for seven years. 

To be more precise, the narrative leads off in 1952, a particular difficult time for these entertainers as she is accused of being a communist while his infidelities are exposed in a scandalous tabloid article. Shamefully soulless and coarsely staged for most of the time, the film is so fixated on cynicism and enamored by its machinations that, with every line delivered, you just want to cover your ears. The pair of actors at the fore simply don’t suit their roles, and the writer-director Aaron Sorkin (Molly’s Game, 2017; The Trial of the Chicago 7, 2020), who has a penchant for the biographical, gets everything underbaked, emotionally insipid and extremely dragging.

Sadly, every single attempt to create cheekiness and irreverence came off flat and out of place. Hence, if you are into movies that depict true stories and relationships with wit and grit, then you might want to skip Being the Ricardos.

C'mon C'mon (2021)

Direction: Mike Mills
Country: USA 

The 2020 Academy-award winning actor, Joaquin Phoenix (The Master, 2012; Her, 2013; Joker, 2020) stars in C’mon C’mon, a sensitive, hearty drama written and directed by Mike Mills, who continues in the humanist vein of his previous family-themed efforts, Beginners (2010) and 20th Century Women (2016). This time he shots in black-and-white, working from a well-crafted script, whose curveballs feel so naturally nuanced that sometimes we believe we’re seeing real life in direct. 

The story follows a radio journalist, Johnny (Phoenix), who is interviewing young people across the country about what they expect from the future and the problems they see in America. His serene life changes significantly when he agrees to look after his peculiar 9-year-old nephew, Jessie (Woody Norman), in the absence of his mother, Viv (Gaby Hoffmann). Family wounds are revealed, and uncle and nephew, bonding in a strange yet liberating way, will find new perspectives to deal with their worries and problems. 

All the process works thanks to a solid direction and the vibrant connection between Phoenix, who demonstrates a total understanding of his character, and Norman, who surprises with fabulous acting skills. What makes this beautiful film so personal and endearing is the authenticity with which the scenes are built, nibbling around the edges of emotion with subtle touches. 

Precise in its three-dimensional analysis, Mills tells something genuine and meaningful in a quiet heart-tugger made irresistible by naturalistic performances. Sensitive audiences won’t have difficulty remembering C’mon C’mon.

The Matrix Resurrections (2021)

Direction: Lana Wachowski
Country: USA 

The Matrix Resurrections, the highly anticipated return of The Matrix saga is a tremendous disappointment. The extraneous fourth installment in the groundbreaking franchise created by the sisters Lana (who co-writes and directs) and Lilly (absent from this one) Wachowski confounds more than enthralls, denoting a shortage of brilliant flashes and lacking any type of nuance in the proceedings.

Keanu Reeves and Carrie Anne-Moss reprise their central roles as Neo and Trinity, while Yahya Abdul-Mateen II replaces Laurence Fishburn as Morpheo. Some newly introduced characters such as Bugs (Jessica Henwick) and The Analyst (Neil Patrick Harris) would have worked if better developed but are not given sufficient time to standout, an aspect that only makes the already debilitated script look worse. 

It’s an overall messy script whose parallel realities collide with repetitive chaotic stunts and persistent moods. This awkward dance between the real and the digital may look fancy on the surface but squeeze it and you have nothing. The waste of talent and money thrown into this vain production is quite alarming, with Wachowski falling prisoner of her own model. 

At some point, still far from the conclusion, it was my desire to erase this messy block of code (made of copy and paste) from the screen. After the abominable final sequence, I got less anxious as soon as I saw the final credits roll. Press the button and... erased forever!

Petite Maman (2021)

Direction: Céline Sciamma 
Country: France

On the trail of the glory achieved with Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019), this precious little drama film confirms Céline Sciamma as a powerful and versatile filmmaker. Showing transparency in the method while infusing fantasy in the story, the director conveys deep feelings as she films from the perspective of a sensitive 8-year-old girl, Nelly (Joséphine Sanz). The latter attempts to go deeper in the bond with her abstracted mother, Marion (Nina Meurisse), to compensate the recent loss of her beloved maternal grandmother (Margo Abascal).

In the process, she finds herself transported to the past, connecting with her mother when she was exactly her age (the young Marion is Joséphine’s twin, Gabrielle Sanz). All these strange things happen in her grandmother’s house and the woods that surrounds it. It’s marvelous to see mother and daughter playing together with such enjoyment. Yet, they also have their hidden worries, which they reveal to each other with an inextinguishable sense of trust. The unfathomable shift in time is the magic that makes you engrossed, making you eager to know what comes next.

The innocence, perceptiveness, sadness and occasional rapture conveyed by the twin protagonists in this intimate, concise drama will stop you in your tracks. Rarely a sharp-eyed depiction of a mourning period takes the form of an exceptionally tender experience.

The Hand of God (2021)

Direction: Paolo Sorrentino
Country: Italy

The Italian director Paolo Sorrentino - who gave us reasons to smile with phenomenal dramas such as Il Divo (2008) and The Great Beauty (2013) - weighs on his alienating teenage years in Naples. The Hand of God is an intimate, often disconcerting coming-of-age film, which not being a massive hit like the previously mentioned titles, is well capable to achieve cinematic cult with its profound sense of nostalgia.

Boasting some grandiose shots and sharpening them through the remarkable cinematography of Daria D'Antonio, the film is a tribute from Sorrentino to a younger self; one whose only certainty was to become a filmmaker. It’s also a hymn of praise and madness to his hometown, whose inhabitants went berserk when the Argentine soccer star Diego Maradona arrived in the 1980s to play in the local club. As the course of the story documents, life has much more than just soccer, and the protagonist - the young Fabietto Schisa (Filippo Scotti) - expresses that feeling in the face of tragedy and uncertainty. 

On one hand, there's a certain tangible quality in the way that Sorrentino molds his extravagant characters, but one also finds some explorative awkwardness in many scenes that feel very Fellini-esque. The result, despite the ups and downs, is touching. Wonderfully bittersweet. 

Combining fantasy and reality, tears and laughter, sports and arts, as well as the vulgar and the sensitive aspects of life, The Hand of God might not be a masterpiece but is certainly one of a kind.

The Worst Person in the World (2021)

Direction: Joachim Trier
Country: Norway

Told in 12 chapters, The Worst Person in the World marks the return of the prodigious Norwegian writer-director Joachim Trier to top form and the in-depth dramas, after a likable exercise in the supernatural thriller genre with Thelma (2017). 

Packed with rare sensibility, the film follows Julie (Renate Reinsve), a sympathetic 29-year-old photographer who was wrong when she though she had found stability in life with Aksel (Anders Danielsen Lie), a bestselling 44-year-old comic author. After crashing into a party, she meets Eivind (Herbert Nordrum), who offers her what she just needed: a break from routines and a new personal adventure. This woman is unafraid to change her life whenever she feels it's the right time to do so. She can even make the time stop, freezing everything around her while running from her boyfriend’s apartment to her lover’s arms and back - a clever metaphoric gimmick from the director. Her imperfections feel awesomely authentic, and that’s why she’s so likable. 

In total control of his resources, Trier conceived a focused screenplay with a vivid, shiny radiance on character. This is the second time he and Reisve work together, 10 years after she had been given a minor role in Oslo, August 31st (2011), a film in which Lie plays the lead. Facing her most challenging role to date, she pulls it off beautifully. 

Trier’s ability to compose a frame that oozes dramatic credibility while following a narrative that holds your interest from start to finish is something to be applauded. It's all very voluptuous and amazing during this persistently romanticized passage of time.  

Yearning and confident, funny and sad, this is a film that deftly combines the tender and the fierce of life.

Balloon (2020)

Direction: Pema Tseden
Country: China 

This intimate drama film with surprising dollops of cultural and religious beliefs, censorship, abortion-rights and determined spirituality floats by like a dream, anchored in deep Tibetan traditions. It’s funny and tragic in equal measures, stressing the differences that divide men and women as well as the gaps between law and religion. 

Shooting with artistic taste and unfussy aesthetic, Chinese writer-director of Tibetan ethnicity Pema Tseden (Tharlo, 2015; Jinpa, 2018) crafts a delicate, enveloping spell that often opposes the harshness of the situations described. The plot hinges on the choice of its characters, following a family of sheepherders - Dargye (Jinpa), Drolkar (Sonam Wangmo) and their three sons - who become affected by the weight of tradition, religious conviction, taboo, loss and unplanned pregnancy. The bucolic landscape of the Qinghai Lake region may remain intact but the times are definitely not the same around there.

Unhurriedly delivered, Balloon plays out like a naturalistic fable in which ancient traditions clash with a more modern vision. It becomes strangely moving during the peacefully elegiac third act, and it’s beauty, unpretentiousness and message should be enough to appeal beyond its art house niche.