No Sudden Move (2021)

Direction: Steven Soderbergh
Country: USA

We all know about Steven Soderbergh's penchant for heist movies (the Ocean’s trilogy; Logan Lucky, 2017; Out of Sight, 1998); and he returns to the genre with positive results, backed by a grandiose ensemble cast and boasting an evocative tone. No Sudden Move is pelted with funny lines, a constellation of unpredictable and suspicious characters, deliciously offbeat moments, pertinent social commentary to boot and gratifying twists. However, the film is stronger in its extremities, whereas the midsection loses some adherence without risking a wreck.

The story, competently written by Ed Solomon (Men in Black, 1997; Now You See Me, 2013) is set in 1954 Detroit, following an apparently simple three-man job that goes sideways. Washed-up gangsters Curt Goynes (Don Cheadle), Roland Russo (Benicio Del Toro) and Charley Barnes (Kieran Culkin) are given the mission of stealing an important document, and the key for that purpose is the car salesman Matt Wertz (David Harbour is impressive here). Soon, with a series of game-changing events, the boys are trailed by detective Joe Finney (Jon Hamm) and start negotiations with bigger sharks like the brute Frank Capelli (Ray Liotta) and the sly, conceited automobile kingpin Mike Lowen (a convincing Matt Damon in a cameo role).

The problem with this neo-noir is the shortage of suspense, which makes it look cerebral. This is curiously overcome by a jocular posture and the succession of betrayals. Also, Roland and Curt don’t make an explosive team, a quibble that doesn’t necessarily spoil the whole. An immediate classic? Certainly not. But a steady source of entertainment, I would say.

Tragic Jungle (2021)

Direction: Yulene Olaizola
Country: Mexico

A supernatural thriller entirely shot in the jungle about the femme fatale Xtabay - a Yucatec Maya myth - brings so many possibilities to mind that it’s hard not to feel excited about it. However what was presented here by director Yulene Olaizola (Shakespeare and Victor Hugo’s Intimacies, 2008; Artificial Paradises, 2011) was powerless, with an overwhelming absence of mystery and a dormant storytelling.

Although regarded as an exercise in mood, the film employs crumbles of surrealism and folklore in an ineffective way, with the story rambling in circles with no apparent direction before throwing a bland conclusion at us.

The year is 1920, and Agnes (Indira Rubie Andrewin), trying to escape an arranged marriage with a malicious Englishman (Dale Carley), crosses the border between Mexico and Belize with a friend and a guide. Surviving a vicious attack by her intended husband, she is later found by a group of gum collectors led by Ausencio (Gilberto Barraza), who like the others, becomes under the spell of her beauty. In addition to a cold and fearless posture, the smile of Agnes - ranging between flirtatious to cynical - incites the fantasies of the men, who easily succumb to her power by losing their sense of direction.

Sloppy in the period details, unproductive in terms of tension and lacking character depth, the film never really explores the sense of danger, and even less the sense of adventure that could have arisen from a story of this nature. Olaizola's excess of control prevented Tragic Jungle from achieving an identity as something scary or profound. To be frank, I couldn’t find one single original idea in this shapeless movie. 

Matthias & Maxime (2020)

Direction: Xavier Dolan
Country: Canada

Xavier Dolan returns to his native Quebec, but his topic didn’t change. Complex relationships between friends and family continue to be his menu, only his latest dish, Matthew & Maxime, isn’t so nutritious as other gourmet presentations such as Mommy (2014) and I Killed My Mother (2009).

The film, his eighth, follows two childhood friends - portrayed by Gabriel D'Almeida Freitas and himself - who after years of camaraderie and sexual repression realize they love each other. Dolan should have invested in something more mature here. His writing is weak and the general performances unremarkable. Another recurrent theme is the problematic mother-son relationship, which also doesn’t have the force of other times.

This uninspired, disjointed gay romance gets torpidly stuck in the frivolous details and characters that surround it. Real passion never emerges as Dolan keeps battling with tone, probing everything without adhering to the right one. The insipidity further escalates with the shabby, cosmetic finale, and the result is a pretentious, silly bore that never rises above mediocre status.

Censor (2021)

Direction: Prano Bailey-Bond
Country: UK

Censor, an art-house psychological horror film stylishly conceived by the debutant writer/director Prano Bailey-Bond, has a say about video nasties and shows creativity in mixing the nightmarish cinematic universes of Peter Strickland and David Cronenberg.

Enid (Niamh Algar) is an inflexible film censor who lives with one single idea in mind: protect the people, especially children, from the violent content delivered by some movie production companies. At the same time she gets press attention due to a real killing based on a film she had recently approved, another film turns her focus to a traumatic occurrence of her childhood. Obsession, paranoia, guilt and delirium start consuming her inside out.

The visuals and sound, entrusted to Annika Summerson and Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch, respectively, are critical to the film’s atmosphere, compensating the tenuity of a plot that never impresses. Having said that, it’s beyond doubt that the confident Bailey-Bond found the most convenient tone in order to keep the experience entertaining. Even suspended in a state that alternates between the mesmerizing and the boring, the film effectively blurs the line between reality and fantasy, while alluring us with a refined style.

Algar’s performance is strong, and while some scenes pay tribute to the retro horror genre, the gore factor is not the main source they feed from, challenging the viewers to see beyond that aspect.

Holler (2021)

Direction: Nicole Riegel
Country: USA

Holler is a gloomy, small-town drama that is never revolutionary in its views. This tale of survival, written and directed by Nicole Riegel and starring Jessica Barden and Gus Halper, portrays the burdens of financial despair but never refuses to let hope go.

In a decrepit Southern Ohioan town experiencing severe industrial decline, Ruth (Barden) and her brother Blaze (Halper) are compelled to steal scrap metal so that the former can go to college. At first, she doesn’t see this opportunity as a real escape, but a series of incidents ultimately changes her mind. The siblings fend for themselves since their mother, Rhonda (Pamela Adlon), was incarcerated due to pill addiction.

Even if the protagonists' hearts pump with expectation, this low-key film had a numbing effect on me, and my enthusiasm gradually dissipated as the film kept moving to its conclusion. Avoiding any kind of cheap manipulation, the director, who filmed on location in her native Jackson, Ohio, creates environments that expound on her interest to suffocate and stir feelings of misery and abandonment. She actually manages to extract a good measure of doubt and instability from the agonizing restraint she employs. 

Pictorially heavy, Holler is acceptable as a realistic look at a family in distress. It’s neither dull nor glorious, and won’t necessarily make you have a blast of emotion, but finds something positive to say among the sterile environments and the performances are consistently strong throughout.

Riders of Justice (2021)

Direction: Anders Thomas Jensen
Country: Denmark

Putting on display a diverse range of lunatic and irate characters, Riders of Justice finds its own patch of madness in a story where the laughs pair up with violence. The film, penned and directed by Anders Thomas Jensen (Flickering Lights, 2000; Adam’s Apples, 2005), follows a tough deployed soldier, Markus (Mads Mikkelsen), who returns home to take care of his teen daughter, Mathilde (Andrea Heick Gadeberg), after the tragic death of his wife. In difficulty to cope with the loss and connect with his estranged daughter, Markus sees his mournful time and anger problems stirred up when he learns from Otto (Nikolaj Lie Kaas), a brainy survivor from the train wreck that killed his wife, that what happened wasn't accidental. Otto’s loony friends, Lennart (Lars Brygmann) and Emmenthaler (Nicolas Bro), join their cause to find the truth and seek revenge.

This comedic crime case, which seems to incorporate elements and characters from the universes of Bong Joon Ho and Terry Gilliam, marks the fifth collaboration between Jensen and his first choice actors, Mikkelsen and Kaas. It’s messy and silly, merciless and compassionate, in a way that, in the same breath, stretches the line of absurdity and entertains moderately.

Far from unconventional, Riders of Justice is definitely a no-game changer but arrives free of all stylistic constraints. In addition to the message that everyone needs help, its most relevant aspect is perhaps the space given to each character to show their own self under certain circumstances. It was a frothy cinematic experience for me.

A Quiet Place Part II (2021)

Direction: John Krasinski
Country: USA

The second installment of John Krasinski’s A Quiet Place has senses of unease and menace soaking into many of its scenes. Although predictable in terms of plot and a bit repetitive in the moves, it’s still very effective when compared to other recent releases within the sci-fi horror genre. You can think of it in these terms: this movie is as smart as Alien vs. Predator is imbecilic.

This concise, big-budget sequel comes infused with sudden startles, breathtaking tension, vicious alien attacks, claustrophobic confinements and a generally gripping atmosphere. Cillian Murphy joins Emely Blunt, Millicent Simmonds and Noah Jupe in the cast, helping the Abbots to escape several onslaughts by repellent blind creatures with an ultra-sensitive hearing.

Krasinski, who replaced cinematographers (the British Polly Morgan for the Danish Charlotte Bruus Christensen) with no deterioration in the visual quality, manages to shatter your nerves as he revives the mood of the first chapter, expressing confidence in the concept and edginess in the well-executed action sequences. 

There’s nothing like the big screen for a fun ride like this, and the Abbots won’t be the only ones holding their breath.

Akilla's Escape (2021)

Direction: Charles Officer
Country: USA

Akilla’s Escape, the latest feature film from Jamaican-Canadian director Charles Officer, is a low-budget indie crime-noir with a robust direction and decent acting that stumbles in the plot and kinda disappoints in critical sections.

The central character, Akilla Brown (a positively cool Saul Williams), is a longtime marijuana dealer based in Toronto who, in the verge of retirement, had thought he had overcome his traumatic past in Brooklyn in the ‘90s. However, when a frightened 15-year-old Jamaican boy, Sheppard (Thamela Mpumlwana), tries to rob him, he firmly and resolutely decides to save the kid from the criminal underworld, easing the mind of the youth’s aunt, Faye (Donisha Prendergast). On the other hand, episodes of Akilla’s complicated life when he was 15 - especially those involving his father, a violent gang leader and woman beater - recur with higher incidence.

Inspired by the Toronto police crackdown on the Jamaican gang Shower Posse, Officer delineates two narrative threads - past and present - and mounts them as a redemption song with some decorous neon-drenched visuals and a fine original score by the multifaceted Williams and the Massive Attack’s founding member, Robert Del Naja (a.k.a. 3D).

The final moments are not quite convincing, denoting fragilities in the execution, but the director’s formidably hopeful message sticks in our minds. 

Waiting for the Barbarians (2020)

Direction: Ciro Guerra
Country: USA / Italy

Visually impressive but limited in structure and emotionally sparse, Waiting for the Barbarians marks the return of Colombian director Ciro Guerra to the big screen after past cinematic accomplishments such as The Wind Journeys (2009), Embrace of the Serpent (2015) and Birds of Passage (2018). The film is an adaptation of the 1980 novel of the same name by South African J.M. Coetzee, who also wrote the script.

Mark Rylance is a Magistrate in charge of an isolated frontier outpost located in the desert. Although, he and his soldiers are in peace with the local nomadic clans - condescendingly called ‘barbarians’ - the so called Empire, to which they belong, sends a ruthless torturer and former policeman, Colonel Joll (a cold Johnny Depp gazing behind round sunglasses), to interrogate a man and his young nephew who had been detained for a minor infraction. His harrowing methods and cruelty shock the Magistrate, who refuses to be part of it. The tension builds up and things only get worse when the latter decides to help a nearly blind nomad girl with broken ankles (Mongolian model Gana Bayarsaikhan). 

Our hero has the noble integrity of the old classics’ characters, trying to balance the inhumane torture inflicted by others with gentle and compassionate gestures. There’s heart in this fierce and serious tale, but it’s also true that most of its episodes lack the drama that would turn it into the epic envisioned by Guerra in what is his first English-language film.

It strikes me as an anti-torture, anti-supremacy statement that laments at the mysteries of cruel human behavior. Yet, on the other hand, it can’t get rid of a certain disharmony between the denouncements at the center (conspiracy theories inclusive) and how things develop and connect within the film. It’s an impaired parable that still stirs some reaction.

Summer of 85 (2021)

Direction: François Ozon
Country: France 

François Ozon, who spread unforgettable cinematic pleasure with titles like Under the Sand (2000), Swimming Pool (2003) and Frantz (2016), disappoints with Summer of 85, a heartsore coming-of-age farce centered on two contrasting gay teens. From minute one, we notice that Ozon opts for an extroverted pose and a touch of madness to tell a story that was loosely adapted from Aidan Chambers’ 1982 novel Dance On My Grave. Unfortunately, that strategy became more silly than sensible, and besides manipulative and overstuffed, the film wrestles with plot contrivances.

Félix Lefebvre and Benjamin Voisin play Alexis Robin, 16, and David Gorman, 18, respectively. They meet under stressful circumstances during the summer vacations at a Normandy’s seaside town in the mid-‘80s, with their relationship evolving into something deeper than just a mere friendship. Both are troubled youths in a way: Alexis, a difficult kid fascinated by death and corpses, is in love for the first time, while David, an inveterate seducer, doesn’t prescind from casual romantic adventures, something that his new partner is not willing to tolerate. The apparent strong bond between them is put to test when Kate (Philippine Velge), an English visitor who speaks supersonic French with an annoying accent, piques David's interest.

This trio of characters was made so uncompromisingly unappealing, and among the cast, only Valeria Bruna Tedeschi (Human Capital; It’s Easier for a Camel), who plays David’s garrulous single mother, deserves some credit, especially in the film's earlier part.

The script already wobbles along the way, and completely crumbles in the last chapters, becoming embarrassingly ludicrous (oh, that scene in the morgue…) in its pseudo madness and bromidic conclusion. There are oodles of coming-of-age films available, and Summer of 85, a lamentable misfire, doesn’t elevate the genre in any possible way.

In The Heights (2021)

Direction: Jon M.Chu
Country: USA

This supposedly hip musical romance directed by Jon M.Chu (Crazy Rich Asians, 2018) is an adaptation of the Tony-winning musical of the same name by Lin-Manuel Miranda (Hamilton, 2020), who produces and has a cameo as the piragua guy, and Quiara Alegría Hudes, who wrote the screenplay. The film intends to be a hymn of respect and praise for the Latino community living in New York. Even though it delivers the goods in terms of giving us the idea of the legacy, patience, faith, dreams and diversity of the people living in the Manhattan’s neighborhood of Washington Heights, it didn’t convince me with its laborious choreography, histrionic overjoy, and thickly sugarcoated episodes aligned at the sound of Latin, hip-hop, R&B and pop music (all music and lyrics written by Miranda). Even the dramatic parts were too syrupy for may taste.

The story follows the twenty-something bodega owner, Usnavi (Anthony Ramos) - named after the US Navy - whose dream is to go back to his native Dominican Republic. When he finally had everything set up to give that step, he meets Vanessa (Melissa Barrera), a stylist-wannabe who works in a beauty salon and becomes the woman of his dreams. A parallel romance occurs between Nina (Leslie Grace), a victim of discrimination who dropped college, and Benny (Corey Hawkins), who works for her supportive father (Jimmy Smits).

In the Heights feels hysterically lively but provides less funny moments than expected, playing more crowd-pleasing than magical. On top of this, I found the musical scenes a bit tiresome and showy.

Paper Spiders (2021)

Direction: Inon Shampanier
Country: USA

Lili Taylor’s flawless performance is perhaps the major reason why you should see Paper Spiders, a disenchanted family drama co-written and directed by Inon Shampanier. 

Taylor is Dawn, a recent widow whose anxiety ramps up when confronted with the fact that her only daughter, Melanie (Stefania LaVie Owen), is about to move away for college. The idea of living completely alone is already painful, but this matter gets an unthinkable proportion since Dawn has been showing signs of persecutory delusional disorder. She obsesses daily with a neighbor who, undeservedly, receives a temporary restraining order against him. In addition to this challenge, Melanie has another complicated situation to deal with: an unreliable boyfriend with a drinking problem.

Although there are individual scenes of powerful acting, the narrative’s pulse is pretty conventional, the editing is faltering as a few segments feel either unnecessary or underdeveloped, and the ending was too neatly wrapped to convince. Disillusion and embarrassment comes from every side in repetitive waves.

Paper Spiders rubs the mainstream melodrama, escaping its own grimness through hope while operating solely on a restrained emotional level. Shampanier’s ambitious project was partially saved by the two leads, who do all the heavy lifting.

Cruella (2021)

Direction: Craig Gillespie
Country: UK

Ok, this Walt Disney’s punk-ish Cruella, masterfully handled by the I Tonya’s director Craig Gillespie, proved to be more satisfying than I had anticipated, filling the screen with the fashion wrangle and powerful synergy between Emma Stone, who fits perfectly in the role of the title character (born from the pen of Dodie Smith), and Emma Thompson, already a staple in Disney’s films, as the wicked Baroness who doesn’t want to let go of her empire.

In this revenge tale, which serves as a prequel of 101 Dalmatians, the sumptuous mise-en-scène can’t divorce the luxurious costume design for a visually exuberant experience, and the film rocks with an unfaltering rhythm that is perhaps over enriched in terms of soundtrack, which is great in any case (Supertramp, The Doors, The Clash, Blondie, and many more).

The screenplay by Dana Fox (Isn’t It Romantic?) and Tony McNamara (The Favourite) brings out some nice twists carried out with a fearlessly inventive spirit and artistic personality. It was made clear that while Cruella has things done, Estella, an orphan swindler who dreams to become a fashion designer, doesn’t.

Although with the computer-generated images falling into occasional excesses, Gillespie succeeded in turning this film into a wonderful entertainment-escape, the most fun installment in the franchise.

The Killing Of Two Lovers (2021)

Direction: Robert Machoian
Country: USA

In this rustic, small-town family drama written and directed by Robert Machoian (God Bless the Child), a father of four struggles with a nebulous separation motivated by a progressively crumbling relationship. The couple still love each other but agreed on seeing other people during this trial period. 

Clayne Crawford delivers a raging performance as David, an angsty but well-meaning man who, encouraged by his disconsolate teen daughter to fight for the family, is taken by surprise by a series of unexpected events. He moved into his sick father’s house but still goes on sporadic dates with his wife, Nikki (Sepideh Moafi). However, Nikki’s teasing new boyfriend, Derek (Chris Coy), is decided to claim a space for himself that David can’t concede. 

Despite the compact 85 minutes, I found that some scenes with the kids could have been trimmed with no loss of clarity in the idea, while, on the other hand, some characters could have been further developed. Yet, the surprising factor does magic in The Killing of Two Lovers, an atmospheric effort forged with an intensity that oscillates between slow-burning and furious. It was magnificently shot with a square-shaped 4:3 aspect ratio, while the adroit composition of each frame was carefully planned. Another aspect that stands out is Peter Albrechtsen’s sound design. 

Overall, it’s a potent snapshot of a marriage in one of its most emotionally conflicting stages. 

The Real Thing (2021)

Direction: Koji Fukada
Country: Japan

This prosaic Japanese rom-com directed by Koji Fukada and adapted from a comic book by Mochiru Hoshisato is a four-hour soap opera that, in the end, showed to have more limitations than qualities. Teaming up with Shintaro Mitani in the script, the Tokyo-born director somehow brings to mind Truffaut’s fictional character Antoine Doinel as his lens focuses on Tsuji (Win Morisaki), a flirtatious young employee of a toys-and-fireworks company. Bored with life, the latter maintains two simultaneous relationships with female co-workers, Ms. Hosokawa (Kei Ishibashi) and Minako (Akari Fukunaga), and even promises to marry them. However, after saving the life of Ukiyo (Kaho Tsuchimura), a secretive woman with an erratic behavior and suspicious connections, he starts to obsess with her and his life is turned into hell.

Fukada tries a new angle but doesn’t reinvent the formula, stretching the plot of a volatile tale that plays as a tiresome game of seduction, lies and fragility. The filmmaker, most known for his 2016 Cannes-awarded drama film Harmonium, arranges everything with plenty of betrayals and reconciliations, jealousy and retaliation, dreams and disappointment, while the chain of characters - fluctuating between allies and enemies that whether support or depend on each other - is uninteresting in its essence. 

Even the final twist feels calculated and overcooked, making The Real Thing a frivolous, wishy-washy cinematic experience.

Sweet Thing (2021)

Direction: Alexandre Rockwell
Country: USA

Although displaying some plot choices near the finale that could have been better worked out, Sweet Thing, the 11th feature from Boston filmmaker Alexandre Rockwell (In The Soup; Little Feet), flies more than it fails, giving you solid reasons to see it; namely, a strong narrative construction supported by chiaroscuro black-and-white images with some occasional bursting of color (portraying happier times), nearly faultless acting, a gorgeously retro soundtrack (with Van Morrison at the helm) that always feels right, and an emotional significance that invites us to reflect about adults unequipped with what is needed to take care of their kids, forcing them into improper environments and go-nowhere existences.

Just like in Little Feet (2013), the director works with his two children - Lana Rockwell is Billie and Nico Rockwell is Nico, 15 and 11, respectively. They are siblings living in New Bedford, Massachusetts, with their sad, alcoholic father, Adam (an utterly convincing Will Patton), who shows his affection by stating “you both are the only good things I ever did”. It’s Christmas time and, despite the financial difficulties and occasional emotional instability, one can tell there’s love in that family. When Adam hits the bottom and is taken to rehab, the kids go spend the summer with their negligent mother, Eve (the director’s wife Karyn Parsons), becoming dangerously exposed to the cruelty and perversion of her boyfriend, Beaux (M.L. Josepher). Their rescue is Malik (Jabari Watkins), a local streetwise and self-proclaimed ‘outlaw and renegade’. But for the young girl, however, there’s the spirit of the jazz diva Billie Holiday, who visits and comforts her in the thorniest situations.

Shot with a poetic glow that easily conjures up the timeless feel of European classics (from Truffaut to Godard), this brave little film makes a clear statement without forcing sentiments to arise.

God Exists, Her Name is Petrunya (2021)

Direction: Teona Strugar Mitevska
Country: Macedonia

The opening shot of God Exists, Her Name is Petrunya, the fifth feature from Macedonian filmmaker Teona Strugar Mitevska (I Am From Titov Veles), struck us with its force and energizes us with the punk music that invades it. Also of an enormous strength is the film’s central character, Petrunya (Zorica Nusheva), a 32-year old unemployed historian who provokes a national scandal after impulsively taking part in a sacred traditional ceremony reserved only for men. 

The case involves both the church and the police directly as well as a frustrated female TV reporter (Labina Mitevska), who not only sees an opportunity to stand out but also to call the attention of the public for the country’s deeply ingrained misogyny and sexism. 

In parallel, the film portrays Petrunya’s toxic relationship with her unsupportive mother, Vaska (Violeta Sapkovska), who makes everything tenser. These mother-daughter brawls can easily slip from verbal to physical aggressions.

Mitevska, who collaborated with Elma Tataragic (Stitches; Snow) in the screenplay, based herself on a true story, assembling a promising satire whose whole fails to be greater than its uneven parts. It only pays off intermittently with some humorous insubordinations and the vision of furious, silly men hurt in their egos, but other scenes are unnecessarily spoiled by a clumsy playfulness or, like during its final stage, with a disordered arrangement that is anything but convincing.

My Heart Can't Beat Unless You Tell it To (2021)

Direction: Jonathan Cuatras
Country: USA

My Heart Can’t Beat Unless You Tell it To, the remarkable debut feature from Colombian-American Jonathan Cuartas, is an indie family horror-drama piece built at the crossroads of the disturbing stillness of Yorgos Lanthimos’ Dogtooth and the urban, gothic tones of Jim Jarmusch’s Only Lovers Left Alive. It stars Patrick Fugit (who also produces), Ingrid Sophie Schram, and Owen Campbell as three siblings who are forced to live according to a dark secret that must be kept in the family.

Dwight (Fugit) and Jessie (Schram) make enormous sacrifices in their lives - including killing people who won’t be missed - to keep their chronically sick younger brother, Thomas (Campbell), alive. The latter is a fragile, dependent vampire that feeds on blood and needs to be kept at home at all the times, away from the sunlight. However, he often implores to get out and claims he needs friends. On the other side, Dwight dreams of leaving the town and put an end to the nightmare, whereas the remorseless Jessie commands the gruesome operations with an iron fist.

This bleak, vicious tale is endued with compelling performances, a noteworthy cinematography by the director's brother Michael Cuartas, an ominously droning score by Andrew Rease Shaw, and a great soundtrack that includes Helene Smith’s I Am Controlled By Your Love, the R&B tune that inspired the title of the film and earns a bitter meaning in the context it plays. 

This is the type of vampire flick that works more at the psychological level and doesn’t need to show any fang to involve us in its bizarre, chilly atmosphere.

Days (2021)

Direction: Tsai Ming-liang
Country: Taiwan

The insipid long shots and minimalist ways of Malaysian-born Taiwan-based director Tsai Ming-liang has always required patience and tolerance from the viewers. His latest opus, Days, appealingly captures two solitary men in their daily routines with contemplative tones and a nearly speechless, deliberately unsubtitled approach. Peculiarly framed, the images are loaded with loneliness, sadness, pain and affection, speaking by themselves in a way that is real and clear. 

Ming-liang’s long-standing muse, the actor Lee Kang-sheng (their association started in 1992 with the great The Rebels of the Neon God) is Kang, a middle-class man who lives in an apartment in Hong Kong and undergoes treatment for his neck and back. He comes across Non (Anong Houngheuangsy), a younger Laotian immigrant living in Thailand and whose meticulous cooking we follow with curiosity. Their painful loneliness are momentarily interrupted when meeting in a Bangkok hotel room for an erotic massage, and then, silently sharing a meal at a local restaurant, just like two old pals. 

Although categorically artsy and observant in its details, the film is ridiculously long for what it intends to say, flirting with boredom. On the other hand, the subtle tension-release flux of this modern alienation (in which relentless background noises and occasional silences play a role) is disconcerting, and raw emotions can naturally emerge. Simultaneously mesmerized and exasperated, I struggled to reach the end, and I don’t believe the ones who say they didn’t. What I do believe, is that it’s hard to cope with this tremendous loneliness in a life dominated by mundane practices.

Oxygen (2021)

Direction: Alexander Aja
Country: France

Oxygen is by far the most interesting film of French helmer Alexander Aja (High Tension; Crawl), but it still struggles with a few aspects, especially in regard to the plot written by Christie LeBlanc. The film, technically inventive yet dramatically familiar, relies heavily on the performance of Mélanie Laurent (Inglorious Basterds; Beginners) as a locked up scientist who, without knowing her identity and experiencing both transient recollections from the past and psychotic episodes due to isolation, tries to survive inside a cryogenic chamber.

Assisted by a sophisticated computer interface called MILO (voice of Mathieu Amalric), the protagonist sets a series of attempts to contact the right people as the oxygen inside the cabin declines to dangerous levels. After figuring out what her name was, she comes to the conclusion she had a husband (Malik Zidi) and suspects someone has framed her. 

Some convoluted uncovering and unlikely behavior - how can you put on airs when you’re running out of oxygen? - put me a bit off, but there was this mental labyrinth against the clock and a super claustrophobic environment making me relatively tuned. Both the scenarios and the special effects are accomplished in a modest sci-fi flick.