Ghostbusters: Afterlife (2021)

Direction: Jason Reitman
Country: USA

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

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

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

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

Antlers (2021)

Direction: Scott Cooper
Country: USA

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

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

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

The Tragedy of Macbeth (2021)

Direction: Joel Coen
Country: USA

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

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

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

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

Licorice Pizza (2021)

Direction: Paul Thomas Anderson
Country: USA

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

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

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

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

Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021)

Direction: Jon Watts
Country: USA

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

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

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

Being the Ricardos (2021)

Direction: Aaron Sorkin
Country: USA

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

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

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

C'mon C'mon (2021)

Direction: Mike Mills
Country: USA 

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

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

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

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

The Matrix Resurrections (2021)

Direction: Lana Wachowski
Country: USA 

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

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

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

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

Petite Maman (2021)

Direction: Céline Sciamma 
Country: France

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

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

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

The Hand of God (2021)

Direction: Paolo Sorrentino
Country: Italy

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

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

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

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

The Worst Person in the World (2021)

Direction: Joachim Trier
Country: Norway

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

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

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

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

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

Balloon (2020)

Direction: Pema Tseden
Country: China 

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

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

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

Parallel Mothers (2021)

Direction: Pedro Almodóvar
Country: Spain 

Contents and style converge smoothly and seductively in Parallel Mothers, the most recent effort from Pedro Almodóvar. The acclaimed Spanish helmer mixes motherhood - a favorite topic - with Spanish politics and serves up a scintillating feminist melodrama anchored by outstanding performances from Penelope Cruz and Milena Smit. This is the seventh time that the former actress works under the guidance of Almodóvar. Smit, in turn, joins him for the very first time. 

A few unexpected twists spice the story of two unmarried women who deal with unplanned pregnancies in different ways. Janis (Cruz) is a confident middle-aged professional photographer who wants to unearth the sad past of her family lost to fascism. Ana (Smit) is a traumatized fragile teen who doesn't know what she wants. They meet in a room of a Madrid maternity hospital where each give birth to a daughter. Further incidents will bring them even closer.

The camera lens focuses on magnify the mothers, and this is also valid for Aitana Sanchez-Gijon who plays Ana's failing mother with personality. 

In spite of dealing with life and death in an adult way, the film is not an infallible achievement, but it also doesn’t hurt the solid filmography of Almodóvar. His early flamboyant ways took a pronounced decline with Talk to Her (2002), and Parallel Mothers continues the level of maturity found in Julieta (2016) and Pain and Glory (2019), even without reaching the thought-provoking abilities of the latter film.

Well patented here is his penchant for projecting women to the center of a story while directing them with real affection.

Nightmare Alley (2021)

Direction: Guillermo Del Toro
Country: USA 

Cleverly helmed by Guillermo Del Toro, Nightmare Alley is less fantastic than The Shape of Water (2017) but more atmospherically noir in the true sense of a thriller. Based on the novel by William Lindsay Gresham, which had been adapted to the screen in 1947 by Edmund Goulding, the film boasts an amazing cast with A-listers, an intriguing energy and alluring visuals. 

By following the obscure path of Stan Carlisle (Bradley Cooper) - a manipulative, remorseless and tremendously greedy con artist - one comes to the conclusion that the miasma of misplaced morality that permeates this story can be fascinating and disturbing in an equal manner. Stan joins a bizarre traveling-show as a carny, first working with Clem (Willem Dafoe), whose number consists of a caged man/beast who decapitates a hen with his teeth, and then with the clairvoyant Zeena (Toni Colette) and her alcoholic husband, Pete (David Strathairn). After learning the tricks of Mentalism with the latter, he leaves the fair with his good-natured sweetheart, Molly (Rooney Mara), in search for their own gigs.

Two years later, they’re holding a fruitful show in Chicago, but his ambitious nature leads him to a dangerous, if financially rewarding, pact with Dr. Lilith Ritter (Cate Blanchett), a seductive psychologist who had defied his psychic abilities in the first time they crossed paths. 

There’s nothing really groundbreaking here, even considering that this dark and lurid thriller comes from a director who has firmly established himself as an innovator. Nightmare Alley plays more like an ever-shifting, lopsided endeavor that finds the right magic to catch us in a villainously astute manner. It boasts a great conclusion, by the way.

The Rescue (2021)

Direction: Jimmy Chin, Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi
Country: USA

The Rescue is an absolutely must-see documentary about 12 young soccer players (aged 11 to 16) and their 25-year-old coach who got trapped in a flooded cave in Northern Thailand during the monsoon season. The occurrence took place on June 23, 2018, and has moved the world, with people from everywhere setting foot in the Chiang Rai province where the Tham Luang Nam Non cave is located. With the danger looming, some never-attempted measures were implemented to make this a successful operation involving experts to volunteers. 

The directors and marital partners, Jimmy Chin and Elizabeth Chai Vasarhelyi, did another great job here, following up praised works such as Meru (2015) and Free Solo (2018). They narrate the facts with the help of footage, interviews and several explanatory images that don’t leave margin for doubt. Further detail emerges about the difficulties and pressure encountered on site, the myth and creeds behind the operations, and the diligence and generosity of many people, including the skillful English cave divers Rick Stanton and John Volanthen (true heroes who risked their lives), and the Australian Dr. Richard Harris, who besides being an experienced diver, was fundamental from a medical point of view. 

Suspenseful and powerful from minute one until the end, the film provides a harrowing look at how an apparently safe gathering could veer into a nerve-racking, life-threatening situation. It’s also a moving scenario of perseverance and faith. One advice, though: watch it with precaution if you’re claustrophobic and prone to panic attacks.

Don't Look Up (2021)

Direction: Adam McKay
Country: USA

Boasting an out-of-this-world ensemble cast that includes Jennifer Lawrence, Leonardo DiCaprio, Meryl Streep, Cate Blanchett, Mark Rylance, Timothée Chalamet and Jonah Hill, Don’t Look Up defrauds all expectations by functioning as an overextended, unexciting and pathetic apocalyptic satire. Writer-director Adam McKay, who delivered likable biographical dramas in the past such as The Big Short (2015) and Vice (2018), totally misfires here, throwing himself headlong toward the ridiculous and attempting to embrace too many things at once in what is a 138-minute screening torture.

The story follows two lower-ranking Michigan astronomers, Dr. Randall Mindy (DiCaprio) and his PhD student Katie Dibiasky (Lawrence), who rush to the White House as soon as they realize that an unprecedented comet, wide in range, is heading toward the Earth. The impact will certainly destroy our planet, but in the oval office - the unqualified president Janie Orlean (Streep), her no-brains son and chief of staff, Jason (Hill), and their favorite scientist, Peter Isherwel (Rylance) - couldn’t care less. The astronomers are also not taken seriously when invited to a precarious TV show hosted by the brainless journalists Brie Enentee (Blanchett) and Jack Bremmer (Tyler Perry).

Staged to be funny, Don’t Look Up fails each and every move. I count no hits but rather thousands of misses in a film that, attempting to depict our times of disbelief in science in favor of conspiracy theories, misses the opportunity with the force of a 100-km wide comet moving at a jaw-dropping high speed.

What Carl Sagan would say? Don’t waste your time seeing this mess.

Red Rocket (2021)

Direction: Sean Baker
Country: USA

Sean Baker has been a blessing to contemporary cinema, coming up with enthralling films such as Tangerine (2015) and The Florida Project (2017). In his new project - the dramedy Red Rocket - he keeps the provocative combination of social realism and recreational fiction, delivering a transgressive satire about the American male ego, which gains a special force with the performance of Simon Rex (a regular in the Scary Movie franchise). He is Mikey Saber, a washed-up porn star and manipulative bragger who returns to his small Texas hometown after years spent in L.A.  

Homeless and penniless, he begs to his estranged wife, Lexi (Bree Elrod) and her cranky mother, Lil (Brenda Deiss), to stay with them, promising to help with the house chores and pay rent. To do so, and because the conservative local Texans don’t seem impressed with his CV and porn industry awards to hire him, he returns to the amateurish drug dealers with whom he worked in the past. Besides that, he starts hanging out with Lonnie (Ethan Darbone), a lonely neighbor, and lures a flirtatious 17-year-old girl, Raileigh (Suzanna Son), into one of his dirty schemes. 

In a tragicomic way, Baker manages to inject sarcasm (Trump’s unlawful America lurks dangerously), discomfort (regarding Mikey’s opportunistic and predatory instincts) and amusement (there are a lot of funny incidents bringing conflict and tension together), taking good advantage from the environment itself and the largely non-professional cast to make it even more real. The acting styles are well-matched with the uninhibited direction.

With a few stark shots and coherent vision, Red Rocket finds disenchantment and hilarity in America.

West Side Story (2021)

Direction: Steven Spielberg
Country: USA 

The celebrated director Steven Spielberg, who had never directed a musical before, takes the 1957 Broadway success West Side Story in his hands and makes it darker and unemotional when compared to Robert Wise and Jerome Robbins’ quintessential version from 1961. This version maintains both the music of Leonard Bernstein (here re-arranged by David Newman) and the lyrics of the recently departed Stephen Sondheim intact while adding a new choreography by Justin Peck.

With a screenplay by Spielberg’s regular collaborator Tony Kushner, the film deals with the same topics - Manhattan’s Upper West Side gang rivalry in the mid-1950s, gentrification, racial prejudice and forbidden love - while presenting a sumptuous artistic direction and some elaborate choreography. However, this 21st-century reading only delivers half of the emotion generated by the original, with the two leads - Ansel Elgort and Rachel Zegler - lacking the chemistry that Richard Beymer and Natalie Wood once achieved to make this story famous on the screen. Particularly interesting is the fact that the Puerto Rican-born American actress Rita Moreno, who played Anita in the 1961 version, appears here as Valentina. She also serves as an executive producer. 

Visually, it’s basically the same thing, only more expensive and not so well done. Some scenes even drag while keeping that swaggering posture typical from the Broadway musicals.

Spielberg's West Side Story didn’t thrill me, and I’m still wondering why this half-hearted, unimaginative film was even made in the first place.

I'm Your Man (2021)

Direction: Maria Schrader
Country: Germany 

Maria Schrader’s third feature, I’m Your Man, is a wonderfully bizarre sci-fi rom-com with a polished aesthetic, some architecturally interesting settings, lovely performances, and tragicomic undertones. She re-teams up here with Jan Schomburg in the script, following the successful biopic Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe (2016). The machinations that drive the film, which was based on a short story by Emma Braslavsky, are never too obvious, and both the formal discipline and slow pace are more beneficial than questionable. 

At the center of the plot is Alma (Maren Eggert), an archeologist in her mid forties, who, reluctantly, accepts to take an advanced humanoid robot home for three weeks, after which she has to write a report about the experience, answering the question: “are robots suitable as a partner replacement?”

This gallant robot, Tom (Dan Stevens), was programmed to be her perfect partner. He is able to read her slightest reactions and improve his algorithm on how to make her happy. Alma, who is more concerned about her soon-to-be-finished long research and her demented father (Wolfgang Hübsch), shows no enthusiasm in living with this figure, especially after a disappointing software crash during their first date. However, their relationship evolves over the course of the film, to a point where she becomes emotionally confused… more than she ever thought possible.

Comparisons with Spike Jonze’s Her have been made, but the present film, less sad in tone, pushes both the humor and the emotional depth to the foreground through a realistic human/robot interaction and not just a computerized voice.

The rippling musical score by Tobias Wagner is effective, while the central performances of Eggert (Das Experiment, 2001; Marseille, 2004) and Stevens (The Guest, 2014; Apostle, 2018) are of the lofty levels we have come to expect of them. Persuasively made, I’m Your Man is a smart move that elicits both strong thoughts and feelings without ever becoming creepy. Therefore, just let it gnaw at your own humanity.

Belfast (2021)

Direction: Kenneth Branagh
Country: UK

Set during the violent Protestant-Catholic turmoil of the late 1960s in Northern Ireland, the autobiographical Belfast is the writer-director Kenneth Branagh’s love letter to the city he was born in. Digging into his childhood memories, Sir Branagh (Henry V, 1989; Much Ado About Nothing, 1993) crafts a finely-acted, sensitively-written chronicle about an Irish working-class family with a very hard decision to make.

Seen through the eyes of a 9-year-old (the performance of the young debutant actor Jude Hill as Buddy is immensely likable), this drama gets a lot of things done by the book but also shows a huge heart that one perceives very personal. The script, which could have been better disciplined, is sometimes too sweet to be completely winsome, and the film relies on the cheerful vibes of Van Morrison’s songs to add soul. I spotted a few unnecessary scenes - including a terrible singing moment featuring Buddy’s father (Jamie Dornan) - that work merely as superficial adorns to the story. However, while finding warm family ties and love in the ugliness of ‘The Troubles’, Branagh creates some emotional resonance. The scenes that involve Buddy and his grandparents (Judi Dench and Ciarán Hinds are awesome) are among the best moments. 

Without getting overly manipulative, the film flows with the deep intimacy of Minari, the insatiable love-for-cinema of Cinema Paradiso and the violent backgrounds of Bloody Sunday. The enchanting black-and-white cinematography by Haris Zambarloukos is responsible for the seductive looks, and the performances enhance the director’s lingering sense of sentimental nostalgia. This work - dedicated to those who have departed, those who have remained and those who have lost their lives - is fairly enjoyable but not especially mesmerizing.