Moffie (2021)

Direction: Oliver Hermanus
Country: South Africa / UK

Moffie is a pejorative Afrikaans term for gay. This closely observed drama film is based on the autobiographical novel of the same name by South African Andre Carl van der Merwe, and pulses with some honesty. However, it struggles to preserve both the focus and the narrative fluidity, ending up being more informative than entertaining. 

The year is 1981, and the young Nicholas Van Der Swart (Kai Luke Brummer) is ready for the compulsory military service of the Apartheid regime. The austere program, which takes place at the belligerent Angolan border, not only toughens their hearts through physical and psychological abuses, but also makes them learn to hate black men, fight the spreading of communism and condemn same-sex relationships. They are also told to forget who they are, which is a big problem for Nicholas, who, being homosexual, can’t really run counter his true nature. 

At the training camp, he instantly befriends the self-assured Michael Sachs (Matthew Vey), but it’s the carefree Dylan Stassen (Ryan de Villiers) who steals his heart one night in the trenches. Combating his most intimate desires, Nicholas tries to avoid the humiliation and punishment that an ‘illegal’ relationship puts him through. 

The director and co-writer Oliver Hermanus makes an effort to push things into a sensitive corner but rarely the film goes there because every aspect surrounding the story is cold and unfeeling. Suicide is frequent among the soldiers, the military training is exhaustingly repetitive, and even a flashback to a traumatic episode in Nicholas’ adolescence feel so lugubrious that I almost wanted the film to end.

The young Brummer delivers a top-drawer performance, giving the character the reserved posture, emotional complexity and subdued charm that allows us to connect. Thus, whatever didn’t work here, it wasn't his fault.

Fire Will Come (2020)

Direction: Oliver Laxe
Country: Spain

Ambiguity and judgmental behavior mark Fire Will Come, the third feature film of French-born Spanish cineaste Oliver Laxe (You All Are Captains, 2010; Mimosas, 2016), who co-wrote it with Santiago Fillol.

The story follows Amador Coro (Amador Arias), a convicted arsonist, as he returns to his house in the Galician mountain range of Los Ancares, after doing time for setting a whole mountain on fire. At a first glance he seems welcomed with a certain coldness by his elderly mother, Benedicta (Benedicta Sánchez), but after a while she rejoices in having him in the house and helping her with the few cows she still keeps.

Quiet, aimless and isolated, Amador dismisses the company of the locals and even refuses to work for his neighbor Inazio (Inazio Brao), who is rebuilding a decrepit house and the surrounding area in order to attract tourism. The exception to the rule is Elena (Elena Fernández), a vet who seems to like him but subtly changes posture after hearing about his conviction by the same provocative men who sometimes upset him with questions like: “Amador, do you have a light?”

Advocating 100% of great-looking realism, Laxe drives this caravan of non-professional actors from Sierra de Ancares with unobtrusive rigor and delivers a powerful, if poignant, finale that really gets to you in a strange way.

Purists of the cinema will be in heaven with this unflinching portrait of an inscrutable man who whether looks for a recovery path or to satisfy his most evil inclinations. Some might find the subject too grim and the uncertainties frustrating, in a film that sets its mood through a permanent human melancholy and the natural misty atmosphere that characterizes this part of the Galician landscape. Even if they have a point, I can’t help recommending it for the profound impression it leaves.

Lux Aeterna (2020)

Direction: Gaspar Noé
Country: France

The Argentine-born Paris-based helmer Gaspar Noé is a known shocker who likes to draw attention to himself through a so called ‘originality’ that never truly convinced me. If his early work - I Stand Alone (1998); Irreversible (2002); Enter the Void (2009) - was marked with a painful grittiness that got me involved, then the last two features - Love (2015) and Climax (2018) - were exhaustingly egotist and too ridiculous to deserve any merit. His new outing, Lux Aeterna, is a 51-minute ride into the backstage of a film about witches, in which actresses Charlotte Gainsbourg (Antichrist; Melancholia) and Béatrice Dalle (Betty Blue; Time of the Wolf) play bizarre versions of themselves. The more relaxed posture and discreet demeanors of the former contrasts with the off-center, confrontational and emotionally fake personality of the latter.

The film, funded and co-produced by Saint Laurent’s creative designer Anthony Vaccarello, starts with a droll, casual conversation between the protagonists before slips into a frantic work environment presented with busy split screens and populated by misguided and unsatisfied extras, a treacherous producer, an irritable director, a presumptuous cinematographer, and obnoxious outsiders who don’t respect anyone in the set. At this point, I was very much amused with the unprofessional, tense and maniacal ambiance depicted, as well as the set decoration by Samantha Benne.

Unfortunately, Noé resolved to explore a nihilistic avant-garde territory in the film’s last section, which culminates with pointless neon-soaked flashing visuals, an ominous score, and a general sense of cheap paranoia.

Lux Aeterna is a shamefully underdeveloped charade whose  uncomfortable viewing says absolutely nothing relevant in the end, apart from those quotations from directors such as Dreyer, Fassbinder and Godard.

Lapsis (2020)

Direction: Noah Hutton
Country: USA

Noah Hutton’s Lapsis may be catalogued as an independent sci-fi mystery-drama film set in a relatively near future, but all its satirized topics have considerable relevance in the present. 

The story follows Ray (Dean Imperial), a truck delivery man from Queens, New York, who despite unfamiliar with the tech world, is allured into the lucrative quantum computing business. Although suspicious of the safety within this environment, he starts cabling pre-defined routes in a forested upstate zone, not only to alleviate his own financial burden but also to provide an adequate, if expensive, treatment for his half brother, Jamie (Babe Howard), who struggles with a chronic fatigue disease.

Visibly out of shape, Ray has to compete with the relentless automated cars that patrol the forest, eventually learning how to slow them down with the help of Anna (Madeline Wise), an experienced, tech-savvy cabler. Through her, he will also find out why his work ID prompts his colleagues to act with such hostility toward him.

Rawly shot, Lapsis is far from any sort of visually attractive filmmaking, but that’s not the point here. The priority is to feed a spiral wave of shady mystery with moody atmospherics at the same time that unleashes observant social commentary about tech conspiracies, deficient health systems, and companies that increase the passive income of greedy CEOs by exploiting its employees. 

This fantasy is intimately linked to a painful reality, and leaves its mark. It’s likable, with tiny imperfections and a constant rhythmic beat of its own. Although not investing in any sort of climax, it provides unwavering entertainment throughout.

Enforcement (2021)

Direction: Frederik Louis Hviid, Anders Ølholm
Country: Denmark

The first feature film from the pair of Danish directors Frederik Louis Hviid and Anders Ølholm bring two police officers - the competent Jens Høyer (Simon Sears) and the antagonistic Mike Andersen (Jacob Lohmann) - into a labyrinthine ghetto ravaged by wild riots, looting and general chaos. The reason for this altercation is the death of an Arabic teen while in police custody. With distinct personalities and approaches clashing along the way, these cops in distress have a go at finding their way out, which would be impossible without the help of a young Arab, Amos (Tarek Zayat), whom they have previously stopped and frisked and then arrested. 

Enforcement relies on tense situations of conflict arranged at a furious pace, as well as a heavy dollop of fierce action that manages to create a good impact during its gripping first half. Unfortunately, the plot becomes weaker and the course of events too coincidental in a dissonant latter phase where the two agents see some generous former ‘enemies’ as their saviors. 

The moral ambiguities experienced by the policemen end up in an opportunistic cynicism that brings the film down, revealing an implausible game changer. 

Provocative yet unconvincing, Enforcement will serve more the interests of unconditional enthusiasts of the action genre than actually entertain those looking for a well-calibrated story.

Rose Plays Julie (2020)

Direction: Joe Lawlor, Christine Molloy
Country: Ireland / UK

The third feature film from the team of directors Joe Lawlor and Christine Molloy (Helen, 2008; Mister John, 2013) is a stone cold rape-revenge tale delivered with a deliberate resolve and languid pace. 

Rose Plays Julie is a subtle film of nuances that never really burns at the surface, rather adopting a deceptively passive posture while making calculated moves that lead us, unhurriedly yet assuredly, toward an unimaginable finale. 

The story, mostly set in Dublin, begins as Rose (Ann Skelly), a student of veterinary science who was given for adoption at birth, attempts to contact her biological mother, Ellen (Orla Brady), a celebrated actress. After knowing the motives that made her mother give up on her, she starts tracking down her father, Peter Doyle (Aidan Gillen), a successful archeologist who happens to be a noxious misogynist with a past stained by rape.

The stimulation comes from not knowing what are Rose’s real intentions, in this unremittingly hopeless tale with no room for forgiveness. In the end, it’s the darkness that prevails.

If you’re a fan of fast-paced, violent drama-thrillers, then this is not your dish. See it only if you want this genre to be served with prolonged sharp-tasting notes.

José (2020)

Direction: Li Cheng
Country: Guatemala / USA

The 19-year-old José (Enrique Salanic), who provides curbside meal services working for a restaurant, experiences a special, passionate, and ultimately unfulfilled homosexual relationship in the ultra-catholic yet violent contemporary Guatemala. Tangled up in the obstructive emotional manipulation of his mother (Ana Cecilia Mota), Jose renounces to an unprecedented chance to leave the country and pursue a better life in the company of Luis (Manolo Herrera), an adventurous Caribbean migrant he fell in love with. Instead, he prolongs the tortuous path that leads to frivolous sex liaisons.

Chinese-born writer/director Li Cheng populates the film with fine establishing shots and captures the dynamics of the city with raw authenticity. On the other hand, he exaggerates the frequency of the languid, repetitive sex scenes.

The minimal script is marginally extended by a side-plot focusing on Jose’s female co-worker, Monica (Jhakelyn Gonzalez), who becomes disheartened with the outcome of her short-lived straight relationship. All is played in a controlled minor key.

Anything but commercial, and featuring a cast of non-professional actors, this portrayal of romantic disillusion still resonates with a good slice of honesty in defiance to an imperfect editing and some forgivable structural irregularities.

Dead Pigs (2020)

Direction: Cathy Yan
Country: China / USA

Signaling a remarkable debut feature for the Chinese writer/director Cathy Yan (she is best known for her sophomore film, Birds of Prey), Dead Pigs is a caustic, dynamic and often hilarious comedy with a strong social bite. Its story, inspired by the real 2013 Huangpu River dead pigs incident, races with high energy and oozes a delicious humor that satisfies throughout.

At the center of the action, we have Old Wang (Haoyu Yang), an unfortunate pig farmer who desperately needs money to pay his mob creditors. His fearless and intractable sister, Candy (Vivian Wu is magnificent), is a beauty salon owner who stubbornly refuses to leave the old family house where she was born, which is being targeted by an insatiable Chinese real estate corporation. This company boasts an enthusiastic American architect, Sean Landry (David Rysdahl), as the champion of its  financial interests. 

Old Wang’s son, Wang Zhen (Mason Lee), is a busboy who sends every penny earned to his father, pretending he’s a successful businessman. He falls in love with Xia Xia (Meng Li), a wealthy young woman who finds out that her father is dating with her best friend.

Economic inequality and critical social gaps, modernization and gentrification, emotional dilemmas and complex family relationships, all these aspects are funneled into a system of satirical criticism, in a fluid, funny film that also plays with visual flamboyance, a relevant soundtrack, and cunning acting to make its point.

Night of the Kings (2020)

Direction: Philippe Lacôte
Country: Ivory Coast

Regardless if you’re in the mood or not for this type of fantasy thrillers, no one can accuse Ivorian writer/director Philippe Lacôte from not using his imagination in his third feature, Night of the Kings. The film chronicles the weirdest night in the life of a young pickpocket (Bakary Koné) recently admitted to the unparalleled Ivory Coast MACA prison, the only one in the world ruled by an inmate.

The prison’s master, Blackbeard (Steve Tientcheu), is sick and soon has to take his own life according to the rules of this remote prison located in the middle of the jungle. While his throne is highly disputed by the covetous inmates, Lass (Abdoul Karim Konaté) and Half-Mad (Jean Cyrille Digbeu), he welcomes the fresher into his cell and gives him the name Roman, the prince without kingdom whom he was expecting to appear any minute. Roman, the storyteller, is compelled to entertain the detainees during the special ‘red moon night' but is advised not to conclude his half-real, half-fantasized story about a legendary criminal called Zama King. In order to protect his own life, the story should be told until the next morning.

Lacôte seduces us into a confined web and then drops us into a cryptic world of fantasy often adorned by visual amazement. Although the prison life itself never feels authentic, there’s something deeply haunting here that gives the fable a spectral dimension. This nightmarish vibe is periodically eased by chants and choreography that, from my perspective, could have been less artistically elaborated. Nonetheless, there’s an undeniable originality in the making of this film, an entrancing prison drama centered around never-before-seen codes and rituals, and with a sharp political bite amidst the chimerical fragments.

Ammonite (2020)

Direction: Francis Lee
Country: UK

Ammonite is the sophomore feature from British director Francis Lee, who squeezes in a good portion of authenticity as a result of the symbiotic performances by Kate Winslet (Titanic; Sense and Sensibility) and Saoirse Ronan (Lady Bird; Little Women). Just like in his previous drama, God’s Own Country (2017), Lee addresses the topic of homosexuality, employing a specific backdrop marked by prejudice and conservatism. Even so, he manages to give the story a hopeful ending.

Set in the mid-19th-century England, the film was loosely inspired by the independent British paleontologist and fossil collector Mary Anning (Winslet), chronicling a hypothetical romance between the latter and Charlotte Murchison (Ronan), the quiet spouse of a wealthy visitor (James McArdle) with an interest in fossils. Convalescing from the loss of a baby, the melancholy Charlotte remains in the little seashore village of Lyme Regis for a few more weeks while her husband takes part in an expedition. During this period, she develops a special bond with Mary that will change their lives forever.

Combining the realism of the unpolished milieu and the sensitivity of a quietly passionate romance, the film gives a fine perspective to the changing role of women at a particularly difficult time for intimate same-sex relationships. 

Although exuding a pleasing old-fashioned appeal, the film owes less to the course of its plot than to the authentic performances. In the absence of surprise, it’s precisely the decorous acting of the leads and the peculiar luminosity in the work of French cinematographer Stéphane Fontaine, who worked with Jacques Audiard, Paul Verhoeven and Pablo Larraín, that make the film worth seeing.

The Wild Goose Lake (2020)

Direction: Diao Yinan
Country: China

The most attractive aspect of The Wild Goose Lake, Diao Yinan’s fourth directorial feature, is the raw and miserable backdrop where the story takes place. The film depicts a particular crime world that incorporates Jia Zhangke’s raw aesthetics, Wong Kar-wai’s dreamy-yet-tense ambiance, and the violent gangster ways that go with the taste of directors like John Woo and Andrew Lau. All this is wrapped in an uncanny aura. 

The story centers on a doomed gangster (Ge Hu) and the woman (Gwei Lun-Mei) who will help him put the hefty bounty on his head in the hands of his estranged wife (Regina Wan). Compellingly shot but sluggishly mounted, the film denotes a brutal intensity in its opposite extremities but remains in a morose, torpid state in a middle part where everyone is watching everyone with barely no development coming from there.

Given that the film lingers too much in such trivial scenes, patience is required, yet the obscure cinematography by Jingsong Dong (Long Day's Journey Into Night, 2018) is a factor that definitely deserves attention. 

More entrancing than unsettling, this thriller is sort of dismissive of its audience, promulgating style over substance while apparently unaware of the emotional shallowness that emanates from the observant dispassion of Yinan’s lens. There’s an undercurrent of anxiety navigating the calm waters, sometimes so subtle that we get the feeling that some scenes are missing and others are purposely stretched out to fill those gaps. Unquestionably, a peculiar experience.

Fourteen (2020)

Direction: Dan Sallitt
Country: USA

A good friendship is certainly a life-enhancing blessing, especially when the people involved contribute selflessly. Well, that’s not exactly the case with the two well-built female characters in Fourteen, a modern-day drama set in New York. Here, a childhood bond deteriorates over the course of a decade and the reasons behind that transformation, which gradually shifts from closeness to estrangement, are subtler than just having distinct personalities and approaches to life, as well as opposite states of mind and ambitions.

Contrasting with Mara (Tallie Medel), a teacher’s aide, who is very generous, unfailing, and down-to-earth, Jo (Norma Kuhling), a social worker, emerges as a volatile, irresponsible and needy person, struggling with a more serious problem than temporary alcohol and drug addictions. The painful emotional conflicts she goes through and the frequent selfish posture adopted keep away partners and friends, undermining her chances to be happy.

The American writer/director Dan Sallitt (The Unspeakable Act, 2012) finds the right narrative pulse for this slight tale, which develops with emotional insight and cerebral pragmatism. The filmmaking is simple and focused (with Maurice Pialat as a major influence); the performances engage in naturalistic intensities; and the New York background provides it a special touch that, together with the dramatic stimuli of the story, are enough to warrant a more than satisfactory viewing. 

Contradicting a recent tendency in the independent drama genre, Fourteen has a darker edge to it, but refuses to fall into immoderately lugubrious places, often plunging the inner disquietness of each character into an apparent tranquility and dissolving it in the daily life routines.

Let Them All Talk (2021)

Direction: Steven Soderbergh
Country: USA

Directed by Steven Soderbergh and boosted by the performances of a creditable trio of screen divas - Meryl Streep, Diane Wiest and Candice Bergen - Let Them All Talk is an innocuous Woody Allen-esque dramedy that seems more interested in conversational gambits than really creating any sort of tension or conflict.

Streep commands the screen as Alice Hughes, a celebrated author who tries to reconnect with two old university friends - Roberta (Bergen) and Susan (Wiest) - by inviting them to a cruise trip to the United Kingdom, where she will receive the coveted Pulitzer Prize. The occasion was arranged by her literary agent, Karen (Gemma Chan), who secretly infiltrates aboard the Queen Mary 2 as she tries to figure out what Alice’s new book is about. In order to do that, she persuades the writer’s young nephew, Tyler (Lucas Hedges), to provide her with all the information she keeps in secrecy.

Without feeling necessarily staged, the film is always talky, occasionally engaging and often manipulative. The unexpected finale elevates the material a tiny bit, but the road that leads there remains conventionally undeviating. The problem with this film is that some scenes really work, but some others don’t. 

The slowly emerging details about the characters and their relationships keep us going, but both Soderbergh, who competently handles the photography with natural light, and the screenwriter Deborah Eisenberg could have used more mordant tones and humor to pepper it. It’s a pragmatic yet rippling navigational episode rescued by the performances.

Undine (2021)

Direction: Christian Petzold
Country: Germany / France

Shaped with the unique perspective and filmmaking charms of German helmer Christian Petzold (Yella, 2007; Barbara, 2012; Phoenix, 2014), Undine is a hypnotic love story anchored in the mythology and in the contemporary. This fascinating reality-fantasy hybrid centers on a passionate, if tragic, romance lived in today’s Berlin between an historian woman and water nymph, Undine (Paula Beer), and an industrial diver, Christoph (Franz Rogowski). The 16th-century myth says that the mythological water creatures known as undines must kill the men who betray them before returning to the water.

Shot with absolute assurance and tinged with the glowing photography of Petzold’s regular associate Hans Fromm, the film is painted with an intriguing surrealism that counterbalances the quotidian details. It plays like an intimate, well-composed poem whose stanzas are crafted with demonstrative expressions and real intensity.

The waltzing adagio movement of J.S. Bach’s Concerto in D Minor reinforces both the oneiric and the emotional force of the scenes. However, in a stroke of genius, Petzold infuses some irresistible humor when least expected - you have here an opportunity to see a CPR being performed at the rhythm of Bee Gee’s Stayin’ Alive.

Ms. Beer, who is absolutely marvelous here, teams up again with Rogowski for a Petzold film - the first time happened in Transit, three years ago, with equally good results.
Undine is not just an imaginative fairy tale; it’s also a love letter to Berlin and its urban development. Highly recommended.

Test Pattern (2021)

Direction: Shatara Michelle Ford
Country: USA

A searing debut for Shatara Michelle Ford, Test Pattern uses the power of independent cinema to alert for predators of the night and the pestilence of racial discrimination in America.

Her story centers on a Texan interracial couple, Renesha (Brittany S. Hall) and Evan (Will Brill), whose blissful relationship is flustered when the former, a Black woman from Dallas, is drugged and raped by a white man she met at a bar. If the intermittent flashbacks of non-consensual sex are infuriating, then the way she’s treated afterwards by a negligent, racist health care system becomes nearly unbearable to see. 

The film, adopting a casual look and tone for most of its parts, enables the narrative simplicity to work as its secret weapon, depicting every moment with honesty and intention. In a crucially distressing moment of the story, I was surprised by the waltzing classical music gently playing in the background. A clear attempt to attenuate the massive amounts of tension and emotional pain this woman was being subjected to.

Ford gives us a sincere, balanced account of a devastating situation, in a heart-rending drama whose conclusion leaves a terrible taste in the mouth. Complementing her focused camera work, the performances of the two leads proved to be determinant, and the film sticks with you after the credits roll.

The Mauritanian (2021)

Direction: Kevin Macdonald
Country: USA

The Scottish director Kevin Macdonald has a knack for music documentaries (Marley, 2012; Whitney, 2018) and political thrillers (State of Play, 2009; The Last King of Scotland, 2006). Falling into the latter category, The Mauritanian tells the true story of Mohamedou Ould Salahi, an electrical engineer who was locked up for 14 years - from 2002 to 2016 - in the American military prison of Guantanamo without a single charge against him. He became a main suspect on the 9/11 attacks after receiving a call from his cousin and Bin Laden’s spiritual adviser, Mahfouz Ould al-Walid. For the American government, this call, allegedly made from Bin Laden’s own phone, automatically established him as a member of the terrorist group Al Qaeda . 

Subjected to multiple interrogations and all kinds of torture - from sleep deprivation to temperature extremes to beatings and humiliation - Salahi (Tahar Rahim) finds glimmers of hope for his case in the serious defense attorney Nancy Hollander (Jodie Foster), who gradually sees her client as a witness rather than a suspect.

The plot was based on Salahi’s 2015 memoir, but the screenwriters - Michael Bronner, Rory Haines and Sohrab Noshirvani - gave it a choppy articulation and tedious developments. The tension doesn't fade in this film, simply because it was never there, and that inability to create suspense is what plagued the film all along. By filling the central roles with Foster and Rahim, Macdonald could have used a much bigger bite if the script wasn’t so stiff and smug. 

The Mauritanian is a disarticulate, time-consuming, and nearly anesthetized drama thriller that’s not worth investing time in. Read the book instead.

Coming 2 America (2021)

Direction: Craig Brewer
Country: USA

After the successful collaboration in Dolemite is My Name (2019), director Craig Brewer and actor Eddie Murphy blur the picture with a more-miss-than-hit second installment of Prince Akeem’s adventures in America. This time, the African character not only becomes the sovereign king of Zamunda but also travels to Queens, New York, in search for an illegitimate son left behind without his knowledge. To aggravate the family imbroglio, his son, Lavelle Junson (Jermaine Fowler), demands that his tacky mother, Mary (Leslie Jones), move with him to Africa.

The visuals, mounted with great panache, are powerless to compensate the lack of creative inspiration throughout. Neither as titillating nor as funny, the circus is drenched with outdated jokes and predictable situations, and only the music scenes - featuring the female hip-hop duo Salt-N-Pepa, the soul diva Gladys Knight, and a choreographed dance act at the sound of Prince’s “Gett Off” - could stir some enthusiasm. 

The finale’s grand party reunites Akeem’s friends from Queens, with Murphy resurrecting the soul man Randy Watson and his Sexual Chocolate band with that retro glow that, working fine in the 1980’s, doesn’t impress anymore. 

No one should expect something clever from a sloppy round trip from Zamunda to America that comes relentlessly burdened with clichés of all stripes.

Wolfwalkers (2021)

Direction: Tomm Moore / Ross Stewart
Country: Ireland / UK / other

Wolfwalkers, the third installment of Tomm Moore’s animated Irish Folk Trilogy, provides an enriching experience with a 17th-century tale that involves wolves, humans and magic (wolfwalkers are humans that turn into wolves in their sleep). Following The Secret of Kells (2009) and Song of the Sea (2014), this gorgeous animation written by Will Collins from a story by Moore and co-director Ross Stewart, shows a deep criticism of religious fanaticism and an admirable respect for the Earth’s living creatures put in danger by ignorant men.

The young apprentice hunter Robyn (voice of Honor Kneafsey) is too lively and curious to be confined at home as her father (Sean Bean), an experienced English hunter tasked to kill all the wolves in the Irish town of Kilkenny, instructed her. Instead, she befriends Mebh (Eva Whittaker), a junior wolfwalker in search of her long-gone mother.  After being bitten by the latter, Robyn becomes a wolfwalker herself, which raises an obvious question: how can her father exterminate the wolves when his daughter became one of them? 

Without being flashy, the animation is workmanlike at best, and the fantastic story has a lot to like. Just sit back and enjoy, because this is not just a delightful film but an important one.

The Little Things (2021)

Direction: John Lee Hancock
Country: USA

The director of Saving Mr. Banks (2013), John Lee Hancock, imagines a neo-noir police thriller that teams up Denzel Washington as an experienced, obsessive deputy sheriff from Kern County and Rami Malek as a serious young Sergeant from the L.A. Police Department. Both are fixated on catching an insidious serial killer who mutilates young women for sexual pleasure without raping them. The investigations lead to a solitary local suspect, a crime-buff (Jared Leto) called Albert Sparma who adopts a confrontational behavior whenever challenged.

The film lingers on a great deal of hanging between the cops, dragging the story for too long. All the same, when the final comes, it just certifies a watered-down marriage between duty and personal conflict, in a film that fails to live up to its shadowy premise. Never transcending, The Little Things pretends to be more than it is, and that pretense comes aggravated by the fact that its conclusion is stale and the process that leads to it remains hardly entertaining.

Rather than conventionalizing procedures, Hancock should look for his filmmaking identity in the first place.

While at War (2020)

Direction: Alejandro Amenábar
Country: Spain / Argentina

Acclaimed Chilean-Spanish director Alejandro Amenábar makes a u-turn in his thriller-oriented filmography (Thesis, 1996; The Others, 2001; Open Your Eyes, 1997) with While at War, a historical biographical drama centered on the renowned writer/philosopher/rector Miguel de Unamuno during the 1936 Spanish coup.

Teaming up with Alejandro Hernandez (Cannibal, 2013; The Motive, 2017) in the script, Amenábar, who also produced and scored the music, creates an honest yet extremely formal portrait of the character (effectively impersonated by Karra Elejalde), a noble thinker who is caught between the rise of the fascist right wing and the fall of the 'reds'. Most of all, he shows to be reliable and frank, but is also depicted as stubborn and mercurial in his political views. Despite of that, he never vacillated in correcting his beliefs whenever the circumstances proved him wrong.  

The film is not the epic that Amenábar envisioned since it struggles with some stiffness and timidness on a regular basis. Nevertheless, the shortage of narrative agility is compensated with historical substance, notable production values (Goya award winning for best production and costume designs), Alex Catalan’s beautiful photography, and clarity in the exposition of a looming, dangerous dictatorship in the guise of patriotism. Moreover, Eduard Fernández and Santi Prego are particularly convincing as the wild general José Millán-Astray and the temperate dictator Francisco Franco, respectively.