Lorelei (2021)

Direction: Sabrina Doyle
Country: USA

From first-time writer-director Sabrina Doyle, a former BBC journalist, arrives Lorelei, a modest if perceptive family drama starred by Jena Malone and Pablo Schreiber. The film examines the meaning of family, the importance of a second opportunity in life, and the nerve needed to change at some point in order to keep us attuned to our wildest dreams. It’s a relatable, simple story set in a small town in rural America. Although it doesn’t really add anything fresh to the drama world, it retreads that ground with enjoyable spontaneity. 

The plot centers on Wayland (Schreiber), a motorcycle club member who, after 15 years in prison for armed robbery, reconnects and moves in with his high school sweetheart, Dolores (Malone), a single mother of three.

The melodramatic mannerisms detected here and there are compensated with some fraught episodes in the life of a couple whose everyday struggle and willing to do better make you keep your fingers crossed for them. Wayland is refreshingly non-violent, caring and thoughtful, whereas Dolores is impulsive, moody and determined.

Fumblingly, Lorelei manages to escape predictability, with Doyle allowing everyone their dignity as she goes for an upbeat finale. Malone becomes the heart and soul of the film but the feelings are more intensely felt whenever the kids are involved.

Memory House (2021)

Direction: João Paulo Miranda Maria
Country: Brazil

João Paulo Miranda Maria’s debut feature, Memory House, delivers pertinent social commentary, fueled by a decent modern-day plot hybridized by primitive Brazilian folklore. However, its accomplishment is somewhat refrained by the uninventive visuals and the austerity in the way it’s presented.

The solitary indigenous Cristovam (veteran Cinema Novo actor Antônio Pitanga), a native of Goiás, has been working for an Austrian dairy company that operates in the South of Brazil for nearly three decades. Ignored by everyone, he only has a three-leg dog waiting for him to arrive at his modest house. He’s often a victim of discrimination and cruelty, and his salary is unfairly cut down as a result of both the economic crisis and the automation of the work. 

When out of the job, he enjoys going to an abandoned house filled with objects that are reminiscent of his roots and people. But he seems more and more disconnected from the world, especially after screwing up the only chance he got to connect with his co-worker Jandira (Aline Marta Maia) and her daughter Jennifer (Ana Flavia Cavalcanti). That’s the last straw for him. There’s an unremitting undertone of doom, and Cristovam realizes he needs to attack to defend himself. 

Quietly heartbreaking and ponderously heavy, this film seems to haunt itself. It literally depicts the gradual poisoning of a marginalized individual through the toxic environment that surrounds him.

Ema (2021)

Direction: Pablo Larraín
Country: Chile

The Chilean Pablo Larraín is a fabulous director, but his newest film, Ema, leaves one with a sense of anticlimax and dissatisfaction, especially after the ridiculous finale. The filmmaker maintains the dark undertones that characterize his films but forgot the sardonic humor in this icy tale of guilt, cynicism and lust that loses consistency with time.

The story, co-written by Larraín, Guillermo Calderón (who worked with director in The Club and Neruda) and Alejandro Moreno, follows a heartless blonde dancer, Ema (Mariana Di Girolamo), who faces widespread social contempt for having returned the Colombian child she adopted with her sterile and inflexible choreographer husband, Gastón (Gael Garcia Bernal), to the social services. Since then, guilt has been consuming their hearts, not to mention that their relationship was heavily affected. Hence, it’s not that strange that love, blame and forgiveness blur with hazy boundaries throughout the film. The plan devised by Ema to reach the child years later is carried out too easily, making us doubt its credibility.

Things can be viscerally painful in one moment and openly voluptuous the next, but it’s clear that the intensity of the performances, especially Di Girolamo in her first leading role, is what pulls the film out of mediocrity. 

Another positive aspect is the soundtrack by Nicolas Jaar, which fits hand-in-glove in the type of mood envisioned by its creators. Pity that the zaniness of the plot prevented Larraín from succeeding this time.

Note: this review was also published on UK’s Flickfeast website

Stillwater (2021)

Direction: Tom McCarthy
Country: USA

Tom McCarthy, the director of the acclaimed Spotlight (2015) and The Visitor (2007), returns with Stillwater, a fairly watchable drama with hints of thriller, featuring Matt Damon in the leading role.

An oil rigger from Oklahoma (Damon) takes an investigative journey to Marseille where his college-aged daughter (Abigail Breslin) is doing time for a crime she says she didn't commit. While trying to locate the presumed suspect in a dangerous neighborhood of the city, this single dad acquires a new family, forging relationships of trust with a theater actress (Camille Cottin) and her little girl (Lilou Siauvaud). But with his mission in mind and some little dirty secrets, will he be able to keep that connection strong? 

Although carrying ambiguity at the heart of the story, the narrative is very direct and simple. This may not be a fast-paced tale, but it actually benefits from that, purring evenly in a quiet, depressive manner. The plot, which McCarthy co-wrote with Thomas Bidegain (A Prophet, 2009; Rust and Bone, 2012), Noé Debré (Dheepan, 2015) and Marcus Hinchey (Come Sunday, 2018), has its flaws, but even failing - sometimes in critical moments like the ending - it still provides something palpable, mostly thanks to Damon who embodies his character with inherent cheerlessness. In the end, Stillwater proves “life’s brutal” to be realistic.

The Suicide Squad (2021)

Direction: James Gunn
Country: USA

Frenzied enough to, at least, keep you awake and alert, The Suicide Squad is a self-satisfied incursion on DC Comics that brims with incorrigible wickedness and gory action. Under the leadership of writer/director James Gunn (The Guardians of the Galaxy, 2014), this new installment is notably superior to the previous one, poorly conceived by David Ayer in 2016. In addiction to the lively humor, the story is supported by an interesting political backdrop that opposes the American government to a Latin-American guerrilla. 

A competent ensemble cast gives life to a bunch of deranged, unlikely heroes tasked with a perilous mission in the island of Corto Maltese. Idris Elba as Bloodsport, John Cera as Peacemaker, Joel Kinnaman as Colonel Flag, Daniela Melchior as Ratcatcher, and David Dastmalchian as the reticent Polka-Dot Man, all do a good job here, but none reaches the heights of Margot Robbie as the unpredictable Harley Quinn, what an acrobatic psycho turned irresistible princess. Her wild romantic encounter and ferocious escape from a torture prison were the most delightful episodes of the film. 

There’s also the voice of Sylvester Stallone giving expression to the voracious King Shark, while the villain scientist, played by Peter Capaldi, is not bad at all. And there’s even a giant alien starfish that threatens to control everyone and destroy everything that moves. 

It’s no clever film, plot-wise, and some characters are definitely better developed than others, but I didn’t find the disappointments to be devastating. Anyway, the outrageous avalanche of anarchy and energy is non-stop.

The Green Knight (2021)

Direction: David Lowery
Country: UK / Ireland / other

Written, directed, edited and co-produced by the gifted David Lowery (A Ghost Story, 2017; The Old Man & The Gun, 2018), The Green Knight is a somber tale whose plot derived from the late 14th-century Arthurian story Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by unknown author. Dark and meditative, this delineation aptly fuses perplexing storytelling with exquisite stylization as well as occult practices with medieval chivalry. 

On Christmas day, the young and fearless Sir Gawain (Dev Patel) accepts the beheading challenge of a sinister and massive creature, the Green Knight (Ralph Ineson), in order to impress his uncle, the noble King Arthur (Sean Harris). One year after, he sets off alone on a perilous journey to meet with his fierce opponent, who is expected to reciprocate the blow. Along the way, Gawain is tricked, robbed and then guided by enormous figures. He also helps the spirit of Saint Winifred (Erin Kellyman), befriends a talking fox, and ends up in a castle inhabited by a Lord (Joel Edgerton ), whose wife (Alicia Vikander) tempts him and subjects him to witchcraft. His courage and word will be tested and a moment of weakness can be fatal.

The efficient score by Lowery’s frequent collaborator Daniel Hart straddles between the ancient and the modern, while the cinematography by Andrew Droz Palermo is stunning. In truth, The Green Knight is fantastically filmed, exerting a strange power of fascination. It can be demanding and baffling at times but never loses the gripping tone that sustains the story… a very dark tone I should say. 

Lowery is more interested in mystical quests than in fierce battles here, and his deeply personal on-screen depiction of the tale takes us so deeply into this feverish, supernatural world that we can almost feel its texture.

Wildland (2021)

Direction: Jeanette Nordahl
Country: Denmark

In Jeanette Nordahl’s debut feature Wildland, an introverted 17-year-old is caught in the criminal web weaved by her family. The statement that opens and closes this journey - “for some people, things go wrong before they even begin” - adjusts perfectly since this austere family crime-drama almost feels like a noir coming-of-age film loaded with corrosive toxicity.  

After her mother’s death, Ida (Sandra Guldberg Kampp) becomes an orphan and goes to live with her aunt Bodil (Sidse Babett Knudsen), whom she had never met before. She quickly learns that the domineering matriarch commands a group of robbers that consists of her three sons - the immature Mads (Besir Zeciri), the reserved David (Elliott Crosset Hove) and the authoritarian Jonas (Joachim Fjelstrup). Ida enjoys all the attention she gets from her cousins, but what was fun at first becomes a nightmare when an operation goes wrong and the relationships grow tenser. 

Shot with clarity as it is magnificently photographed by the expert David Gallego (Embrace of the Serpent, 2015; I Am Not a Witch, 2017; Birds of Passage, 2018), Wildland is an unsettling ride that flows at a calculated pacing, encompassing topics such as loyalty to and sacrifice for the family, identity, sense of belonging, and the choice between the good and the bad.

There’s plenty of disturbing aspects in the plot by Ingeborg Topsøe that makes the film compulsively watchable. The performances are strong - not only from Kampp and Knudsen who are at the center, but also from Hove who truly impressed me (it will take me some time to forget the immense emptiness in his look). This uncompromisingly ugly story managed to linger in my mind after its conclusion.

Annette (2021)

Direction: Leos Carax
Country: France / Belgium / Germany

Provocative French filmmaker Leos Carax (Holy Motors, 2012) teams up with brothers Russell and Ron Mael (the duo Sparks), who wrote the original story and the music, in Annette, his first English-language film. The result was disappointingly mediocre, and what was eagerly expected as a grandiose musical hit, became mostly an insipid spectacle that feels too literal and pedestrian to fly higher. What happened to that delightful ambiguity and abandon that Carax so stylishly exerted in other works? 

Despite its efforts of production, the film is thwarted by a deficient development, a blatant lack of surprise and the dragging singing scenes that go with the extremely artificial staging. Adam Driver (Paterson, 2016; Marriage Story, 2019) - who sings with a Nick Cave vibe when not mumbling - doesn’t excel in playing a stand-up comedian in decline, while Marion Cotillard (La Vie En Rose, 2007; Two Days One Night, 2014) is modest in the role of an acclaimed opera singer. Their child, Annette, is a miracle that the world needs to see, and in fact she saves the film from total oblivion with that last touching scene, where she appears in a pure human form (young newcomer Devyn McDowell is brilliant).

Apart from that, what we have here is some first-rate imagery in a second-rate movie filled with third-rate dialogues. The music and chants didn’t please me either, contributing to a pretentious, kitsch expression that is more irritating than emotional. 

Carax’s Annette is blatantly uninspired and I was simply left in the cold of its contrived machination.

Bad Times at the El Royale (2018)

Direction: Drew Goddard
Country: USA

I must confess I expected more from Drew Goddard, the director of Cabin in the Woods, in his sophomore feature, Bad Times at the El Royale, a fuzzy Tarantino-esque pulp-without-juice thriller that only modestly entertains. The stellar casting doesn’t avoid a pretty clumsy payoff in a story that, after an intriguing start, gets messy, violent and cheesy, continuing its downfall until the end. 

A robber in the guise of a priest (Jeff Bridges), a serene singer (Cynthia Erivo), a traumatized young clerk (Lewis Pullman), a trio of cult-derived psychopaths (Dakota Johnson, Cailee Spaeny and Chris Hemsworth) and a special agent (Jon Hamm) forge some surprising spins and stunts, but the film loses opacity too soon and becomes less and less interesting. Moreover, it all looks phony and sounds artificial from side to side.

I wouldn’t bother visiting this 2-star hotel.

Dara of Jasenovac (2021)

Direction: Predrag Antonijevic
Country: Serbia

Horrifying atrocities of war seen through the eyes of a 10-year-old Serbian girl (Biljana Cekic) placed in the Jasenovac concentration camp of Croatia in the WWII. This is what Predrag Antonijevic proposes in his somewhat inarticulate new drama. The film, based on the testimonies of survivors, wants to be so realistic  in its depictions that falls into artlessness, often failing to extract natural emotions from the scenes.

Thus, episodes of profound compassion and self-sacrifice in favor of others alternate with brutal violence and authoritarian repression, leaving a huge gap in between. Angels and demons are taken to extremes, while the anticipation of cruelty, in most of the cases, makes the film’s own worst enemy.

The weight of history can be felt and the unacceptable treatment inflicted to the Serbs and Jews severely condemned, but the film could have been more plot-oriented and less heavy-handed. Screenwriter Natasa Drakulic, who shares a good slice of responsibility in this misfire, forges an unsatisfying conclusion that leaves everything in suspension. What should be agonizingly poignant becomes merely superficial.

Nina Wu (2021)

Direction: Midi Z
Country: Taiwan

This finely crafted, ever restless psychodrama film co-written by Midi Z (The Road to Mandalay, 2016) and Wu Ke-xi, who also stars, provides an absorbing cinematic experience that gets creepier and infuriating as the details of the story emerge. 

Sufen Wu (Ke-xi) left her rural hometown eight years ago to try her luck as an actress in Taipei, where she adopted the artistic name Nina Wu. She was only picked to play background roles in a few short films and minor commercials, and has been making most of her living as an online celebrity. Now, that an opportunity to have the leading role in a major feature came up, Nina doesn’t want to screw up and goes for it, even if the nudity and sex scenes in it make her extremely uncomfortable. How much humiliation and submission is needed for an actress to be successful?

The film-inside-the-film concept works well, and we find her being provoked and bullied by the strict director (Shih Ming-shuai). We also learn through episodic scenes that Nina misses her childhood friend Kiki (Vivian Sung) most than anyone, and that she deals with different problems in her family. Her recurrent strange dreams show her state of mind, which is deeply affected trauma.

The film is cleverly structured and the title character shaped with feverish, Darren Aronofsky-like layers, which adds well to the suspenseful coldness of Michael Haneke and the voluptuousness and paranoia associated with Gaspar Noé. It can be manipulative and disorienting at times, and not all scenes work at the same level. Still, it’s a chilling statement involving the movie industry that will leave you disturbed and disgusted.

There Is No Evil (2021)

Direction: Mohammad Rasoulof
Country: Iran

Four short, if complex, stories centered on the topic of capital-punishment and immersed in moral dilemma is what the Iranian director Mohammad Rasoulof (A Man Of Integrity, 2019) offers us in There Is No Evil, his seventh fictional feature and the one that led him to prison and house arrest (just like Jafar Panahi) via the fierce censorship exerted by the authoritarian political regime of Iran.

With pragmatism, Rasoulof doesn’t condemn individuals but rather the political system behind the acts, posing questions about morality, justice and personal liberty.

Cerebral and presented with sang-froid, the first story centers on a husband/father (Ehsan Mirhosseini) in his family routines; the second chapter is thrilling and defiant of the system, focusing on a jailed Iranian soldier (Kaveh Ahangar) who refuses to kill; the third tale is painful and complex as it follows another soldier (Mohammad Valizadegan) who crosses the woods to visit his girlfriend (Mahtab Servati) but is struck by an unexpected surprise; and finally, the fourth story, the most intriguing of them all, is marked by a nice twist as an outcast doctor (Mohammad Seddighimehr) welcomes his Germany-based niece (director’s daughter Baran Rasoulof) as she visits the parched mountainous area where he lives.

The very naturalistic performances enhance the conflicts of conscience and the questions on how to deal with such a complex issue. How can you fight for your freedom and make your choice when your government is criminal and wants you to act according its ways? Although uneven, this is a brave, revelatory film from a smart filmmaker who presents things from the perspective of the executioners, drawing attention to the impact of their acts on themselves and the ones who surround them.

Val (2021)

Direction: Leo Scott, Ting Poo
Country: USA

This documentary, co-directed by Leo Scott and Ting Poo, about the career successes and health struggles of American actor Val Kilmer, uses precious footage captured by the actor himself throughout the years, from family gatherings in his childhood (with the help of his two brothers) to auditions to the present time. 800 hours of footage were narrowed down to only 108 minutes, a fact that turned to be the best feat of the film.

Kilmer, who started being noticed in the mid-80s (primarily with Top Gun, 1986) and attained a career peak in the early 90s with his personification of Jim Morrisson in Martin Scorsese’s The Doors, (1991), fought an aggressive throat cancer that left him nearly speechless. Now, he uses a voice box to express himself but his son Jack narrates the film in his behalf. 

As passionate about its subject as the actor was about acting, the film tells Kilmer’s story intimately, with compassion, without never going into unnecessary sentimentality. Yet, this self-portrait of the star is not as powerful as I had imagined, even losing its track a bit by the time that Kilmer’s film Cinema Twain (2019) is mentioned. It’s an OK watching, not a fascinating one.

Servants (2021)

Direction: Ivan Ostrochovsky
Country: Slovakia / Czech Republic / other

Servants is a sharp, atmospheric arthouse thriller whose noir tone straddles between the classic Robert Bresson (Diary of a Country Priest, 1951; Au Hasard Balthazar, 1966; Mouchette, 1967) and the contemporary Pawel Pawlikowski (Ida, 2014; Cold War, 2018). Shot in 4:3 format and exhibiting a dazzling visual austerity for each impeccable black-and-white frame, Servants can be suffocating at times in its denounce of the church involvement with the Czech Communist regime in the early 1980s during the Cold War.

Slovak director Ivan Ostrochovsky (Goat, 2015) co-wrote the scrip with regular collaborator Marek Lescák and Ida’s co-writer Rebecca Lenkiewicz, with the purpose of depicting on screen a few real events that mirror the bleak, oppressive atmosphere lived by the clergy at the time. Staged with virtuosity, the tale focuses on theology students Juraj (Samuel Skyva) and Michal (Samuel Polakovic), and their moral dilemmas when it comes to serve the Communist regime with information instead of focusing on their true vocation.

The quiet, toxic battle that takes place in the shadows between the religious doctrine and the political ideology is a chilling, enraging exposition of years of abuse, and the film has absolutely no qualms about saying that leaders of Theology University were conniving with politics to save their school from closure. Ostrochovsky puts on display the ways found by some students and priests to resist.

Servants could have been tighter in its final stage, but it’s still a rigorous, peculiar journey of faith that entangles in a slow, sure-handed fashion. Here, the enemy is not the devil or ‘witches’ or anything supernatural, but rather a human-made political system that operates in silence.

Never Gonna Snow Again (2021)

Direction: Malgorzata Szumowska / Michal Englert
Country: Poland

Polish filmmaker Malgorzata Szumowska (Body, 2015; Mug, 2018) teams up with her cinematographer ex-husband, Michal Englert, in the direction, aiming to leave some magic in the air with Never Gonna Snow Again, a lightly layered drama with enchanting tones and an ambivalent playfulness.

The story follows Zhenia (Alec Utgoff), a Ukrainian masseur born in the now ghost-town Pripyat, nearby Chernobyl, who moves to a wealthy Polish neighborhood and builds a sort of cult following through the gift of touching the peoples’ souls and healing them. Experiencing faint memories of his childhood, the popular Zhenia proves to be a hard worker who can make his female clients jealous, even if he has no time for intimate relationships.

Shot with taste, the film benefits from a hypnotic camera work and balanced image compositions, allowing you to enjoy these characters even more. The low-key Utgoff conveys the requisite curiosity and charm that Zhenia requires, spicing up the psychological phenomenon that he carries with him without touching any dark mysticism. On the contrary, everything is subtle and sensitively ironic, shaping up into a provocative satire that is punctuated with controlled surreal hysteria and some offbeat wit.

The idea for the film came from a real Ukrainian masseur but the filmmakers are more interested in dissecting the vulnerabilities of the Polish bourgeoisie than really scrutinize which type of superpowers Zhenia was gifted with. Sometimes giving the sensation that is going to dry out, the plot never flounders and maintains its steady pulse. To tell the truth, I was never truly hypnotized but never lost the interest either.

Apples (2021)

Direction: Christos Nikou
Country: Greece

Apples, the intriguing feature debut by the up-and-coming Greek director Christos Nikou, who worked as an assistant director for Yorgos Lanthimos in Dogtooth (2009) and Richard Linklater in Before Midnight (2013), flows with offbeat quirkiness and deadpan humor, doling out more in terms of emotion than I was expecting at an early stage. 

The film’s nature and pace won’t rocket you to the edge of your seat but offers something deeper than just a mere laconic examination of memory. Posing interesting questions about identity, relationships and loss, the film takes some deciphering, but attentive viewers will take tiny bits of dialogue as hints for the puzzle until the final twist is tossed at us, giving a proper meaning to the story.

The mood and style are primarily reminiscent of Lanthimos’ The Lobster but there’s some of Wes Anderson’s melancholy humor and Quentin Dupieux's absurdity thrown in the mix. Yet, Nikou finds his own beat, making it less dystopian and ‘self-sabotaged’ by the inscrutable central character, Aris (Aris Servetalis). The latter lost his memory due to - imagine! - a worldwide pandemic, giving the impression of being totally out of sync of his true feelings. This avid apple-eater gladly joins the governmental New Identity Program, which serves to give him a ‘new life’ - new experiences, new memories. He eventually forges an atypical relationship packed with peculiar episodes with an amnesiac woman, Anna (Sofia Georgovasili). 

Although narratively opaque for most of the time, which makes us constantly aware of not seeing the whole picture, Apples is a very clever film. Bizarre indeed, but ultimately so simple at its core.

Preparations to Be Together for an Unknown Period of Time (2021)

Direction: Lili Horvath
Country: Hungary

In Lili Horvát’s uncommonly moody romantic drama, reality and fantasy intertwine in the mind of a woman in love.

The director’s sophomore feature follows Marta Vizy (Natasa Stork), a highly qualified neurosurgeon in her early forties who leaves the US, where she lives for nearly two decades, to return to her hometown Budapest. The reason for this professional downgrade is Janos Drexler (Viktor Bodó), a man she met in a conference in New Jersey, who she thinks is the right one for her. They didn’t exchange phone numbers but decided to meet one month after in the Pest end of the Budapest’s Liberty Bridge. Janos didn’t only show up to the rendezvous but also claims he never met her before when confronted with the situation.

This romantic move turned frustration develops with a few episodes - her appointments with a psychologist that puts everything she reveals in question, a short flirt with a fourth-year medical student, and her curiosity in knowing more about Janos’ life.

The film, decorously shot in 35mm, flows with a languid propulsion permeated by melancholy, only sporadically surprising in a plot that lacks that expected ingenious spin that would give the best sequence to what had been previously created. It gets lost somehow in its ambiguity and that affects the whole.

The film, once an extraordinary idea, becomes out of shape at the moment that Horvát tries to give it one. The reversion of the roles of Marta and Janos brings an emotional hollow that transforms these Preparations in an unaffecting put-on.

Gaia (2021)

Direction: Jaco Bouwer
Country: South Africa

Executed with above-average imagery, Gaia, a trippy eco thriller directed by South African Jaco Bouwer, tells the nightmarish experience of a park ranger, Gabi (Monique Rockman), while conducting a routine operation in a secluded forest. Injured, she accidentally bumps into two reclusive survivalists - father (Carel Nel) and son (Alex Van Dyk) - who show to have a bizarre relationship with the forest. 

The woods feel alive with wilderness-spawned creatures and a phantasmagoric energy all its own. Fungus attacks and folklore elements are not rare, but the dreamlike sequences are excessive and repetitive. With that said, the film is solidly inventive in what it gets right.

The acting is good enough and Bouwer directs competently, availed by Pierre-Henri Wicomb’s effective sound design and Jorrie van der Walt’s beautiful cinematography. It seems intentional from the filmmaker to keep things vague rather than providing too many details. Thus, the plot by Tertius Kapp feels fresh until it takes us to familiar places.

Even limited in budget, Gaia is a surprising poke in the eye of our horror-movie expectations.

Volcano (2019)

Direction: Roman Bondarchuk
Country: Ukraine

The first fiction feature from Ukrainian Roman Bondarchuk started as a documentary. Volcano got its roots from the real life of the director’s girlfriend’s uncle, a former head of a fish farm who lost everything and now lives tormented by the future.

In this surreal comedy drama, Bondarchuk cooperated with Alla Tyutyunnik and co-producer Dar’ya Averchenko in the script, mounting a tale where fiction and reality touch with sufficiently eventful episodes and oddities to keep us absorbed.

While working with an OSCE mission in a forgotten steppe region next to the Crimean border in South Ukraine, Lukas (Serhiy Stepansky) gets lost, also losing track of his colleagues. He’s picked up by a local young woman, Marushka (Khrystyna Deylyk), who takes him to her father, Vova (Viktor Zhdanov), a jobless man with some strange ideas for business.

The anarchy of the place is alarming, and Lukas ends up being robbed, arrested, beaten up, abandoned in a hole to die, and involved in spectacular fights with a gang of a neighbor village. He also sees a mirage of dead people in the sun, and experiences friendship and true love. Is he crazy enough to stay? 

Never overheated, the film plays like a nightmarish fairy tale that is by turns austere and affecting. While the absurd humor generates crushing awkwardness, the convincing environments promulgate a sad authenticity. And this mix functions correctly, regardless the so-so finale.

Zola (2021)

Direction: Janicza Bravo
Country: USA

Co-writer and director Janicza Bravo (Lemon, 2017) based herself on the 2015 tweets by Aziah "Zola" King and a related Rolling Stone article by David Kushner to set up her sophomore feature, Zola, starring Taylour Paige, Riley Keough, Nicholas Braun and Colman Domingo.

The story follows the title character (Paige) going on a bizarre two-day road trip from Detroit to Tampa, Florida, after being invited by cunning stripper and sex worker Stefani (Keough) to dance for quick cash in clubs. They are joined on the road by Stefani’s slow-witted boyfriend (Braun) as well as her sly pimp (Domingo).

More pathetic than serious, the film tends to minimize the grimness of the situation with mindless episodes and an I-don’t-care attitude' that remove all the possible thrills within the incidences and also the curiosity we could show in the story. I left not caring what the future held for a single one of these characters because it’s all too complacently vulgar. 

The idea of Zola may be appealing at its core, but Bravo was unable to present it in a satisfying manner. She certainly aims for satirical laughs here, but wears pretension on her sleeve, and the film just doesn’t deliver.

Flurries of Afrobeat try to infuse some energy but what we get here is a negatively intoxicating vibe that forced me to get absent really fast.