John Wick: Chapter 4 (2023)

Direction: Chad Stahelski
Country: USA

The fourth installment in the John Wick franchise is pelted with gratuitous violence, far-fetched action scenes, and dialogue marred by triviality. Over nearly three hours, we follow Wick (Keanu Reeves) - the perpetual killer turned ‘excommunicado' by the High Table - fighting for his freedom.

In this episode, director and former stuntman Chad Stahelski takes the acrobatics too far, making almost impossible to count the number of stray bullets wasted in confrontations with numerous Table vassals commanded by the unrestrained and sadistic Marquis de Gramont (Bill Skarsgård). His main opponents here are his former ally turned enemy, Caine (Donnie Yen); a mysterious tracker who goes by the name of Mr. Nobody (Shamier Anderson); and Killa Harkan (Scott Adkins is unrecognizable), the head of the German Table. 

Using multiple settings - from New York to Osaka to Berlin and then, finally, Paris - Stahelski included long and repetitive action scenes that don’t make the film any better since the script’s infinite roundabouts are terribly limited. It all turns ridiculous in this endless killing saga with absent thrills and not much to tell. 

By trading brains for bullets and characters for puppets, the director made the worst possible choices for this exhausting fourth chapter. I was hoping this one would be a definitive wrap up of Wick as a renegade. But no, it seems that a first spin-off to the John Wick films - directed by Len Wiseman (Underworld, 2003; Total Recall, 2012) and titled Ballerina - is on its way. Taking into account the director's style and past work, the focus should remain on the box-office, not on a clever script with acceptable perspectives.

Moon Garden (2023)

Direction: Ryan Stevens Harris
Country: USA 

Moon Garden, the daring sophomore feature by Ryan Stevens Harris, is a freakish visual delight told from an unconventional perspective. Redolent of works by Jan Svankmajer, Guillermo del Toro and Tim Burton, the film follows a sweet 5-year-old girl, Emma (Haven Lee Harris), who wanders through a scary subconscious realm filled with dark phantasmagoria while trying to leave a comatose state.

The girl is often encouraged by whispered messages from her parents (Augie Duke and Brionne Davis), who are locked in an unhappy marriage. She avoids coming across invisible entities and grotesque monsters with teeth that seem to claim her soul, but occasionally bumps into sinister men whose intentions are uncertain. Once in a while, her mind erupts at the surface, recalling past moments of love and self-confidence. This gives her the strength and courage to keep going. 

A simple story at the core opens up vast possibilities for experimentation, and the director, who has been working as an editor since his feature debut - Virus X (2010) - finds some magical love among petrifying horror and chaos. The inventiveness of detail makes it a sensory experience; one of those that is hard to stay laser-focused as the screen gets crammed with such a proliferation of bizarre elements. 

With warped sounds enhancing the industrialism of the setting, this twisted fairytale is pretty darn hypnotic.

Blackberry (2023)

Direction: Matt Johnson
Country: USA 

BlackBerry is a well-told true story about the meteoric rise and precipitous fall of the Canadian brand that brought the first smartphone into the world. Director Matt Johnson, whose staple is also starring in his own films (The Dirties, 2013; Operation Avalanche, 2016), assembles a gripping biographical tech-thriller with refreshingly witty passages and character-driven fortitude as its most entertaining values.

Mike Lazaridis (Jay Baruchel), a brilliant if shy software developer, and his more confrontational business partner and best friend, Doug Fregin (Johnson), hire the ambitious entrepreneur Jim Balsille (Glenn Howerton in his best) for their company Research in Motion. The latter is an aggressive negotiator who may grab you by the throat and beat you about the head without ever lifting his feet from the desk. Intense and fast-moving, this thriller portraits their high demands for data as a matter of life and death. 

Even if you’re not tech savvy, Johnson puts it all in fascinating context. Aiming for greatness and not quite making it, he, nonetheless, discloses a vital, engaging part of technology history while guaranteeing absolute fun by effectively mixing serious and comedic tones. The rules of this tech business game are questioned in a last part tinged with bitterness. The acting, staging, editing, soundtrack, and direction are handled with competence.

The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the Future (2023)

Direction: Francisca Alegria
Country: Chile 

Employing magic realism, The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the Future, can be haunting at times as it languishes in an oppressive atmosphere that goes beyond superstition. Symbolism and dreamy sequences help to extract depth and meaning from a story that fuses past, present and future, while touching on topics such as family, death, forgiveness, generational damage and trauma, and environmental concern. 

Intriguingly, a woman called Magdalena (Mia Maestro) emerges from the polluted river where fish are dying. Arriving barefoot and with a helmet on, she seems to know exactly where to head. Her daughter, Cecilia (Leonor Varela), a respected surgeon in Santiago, returns to her childhood home to visit her father, Ernesto (Alfredo Castro, who worked with Pablo Larraín in some of his best films). He had a cardiac episode after seeing his dead wife. Burdened by the past, Cecilia brings her two children with her, including her trans son Tomas (Enzo Ferrada), who doesn’t hide a special kinship with his long-lost grandmother.

The beauty of the story lies precisely in how to overcome fragility, doing it with both realistic and supernatural quests that will take you out of your comfort zone. Debutant director Francisca Alegria co-wrote with two others, maintaining the lyricism intense in a non-linear film that will divide audiences. Yet, one can't help wonder if that's not exactly what the director was looking for. What is unquestionable here is that: understanding in order to repair and heal applies both to family and our mother Earth.

More Than Ever (2023)

Direction: Emily Atef
Country: France 

In Emily Atef’s death-related drama More Than Ever, Vicky Krieps invests passionately in her performance, releasing a subtle discomfort that comes between exasperation and swallowed tears. This film is certainly a strange experience if we think that it marked Gaspard Ulliel’s last performance after the tragic skiing accident that took his life in 2022. He was 37. 

Hélène (Krieps), who is in her early thirties, and Mathieu (Ulliel) try to organize their Parisian life after the former is diagnosed with a rare, progressive, and ultimately terminal disease called IPF - idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. Their love is strong but the visibly depressed Hélène, for her own sake, decides to make a trip to Norway and stay with a blogger (Bjørn Floberg) she met online. 

Between Paris and the Norwegian fjords, a slow agony unfolds with quietude but also luminous hope of reaching a higher state of mind. In each shot, Atef breathes sensitivity, but her approach suffers from a stiffness that is compared with the romantic stillness that affects the protagonist's spiritual process. 

Profoundly human and saddled with a mix of somber and limpid energy, More Than Ever is, in some measure, a slightly conventional work that could have explored its characters a bit deeper. Still, we can’t help feeling sorry for this strong, searching young woman, whose life changed so abruptly. Not necessarily bowled over by what I was seeing, this is not a dislikable drama.

Winter Boy (2023)

Direction: Christophe Honoré
Country: France 

Christophe Honoré's fifteenth feature, Winter Boy, is a heavy and uninspired semi-autobiographical drama starring Paul Kircher as Lucas, a high school student whose existence becomes unbearably painful after a family tragedy. It’s a personal look at the director’s grievous emotional state in the months following the death of his father, and the desperate attempt to find comfort, usually in the wrong places. The director also stars as Lucas’ father, a reflection of his own. 

Often shot in claustrophobic close-up, the film is a full miss in its vain attempt to blend the dreamy and the depressing. Juliette Binoche, who plays Lucas’ helpless  mother, is a shadow of herself; her superb acting qualities are wasted here. 

The director of Love Songs (2007) and The Beautiful Person (2008) can’t quite get a handle on this cumbersome mess. Winter Boy is stilted, with deficient dynamics and questionable choices of monologues in front of the camera and explanatory voice-over. Losing energy along the way, what should have been done with melancholy grace, ends up in tedious disgrace. The strange mixture of vulnerability and strength that Honoré wanted to convey never convinces, and the film ends ridiculously, in flagrant hypocrisy.

Smoking Causes Coughing (2023)

Direction: Quentin Dupieux
Country: France 

Whether you love or hate his movies, Quentin Dupieux is a singular filmmaker who is not afraid to experiment. His new fantastical and absurdist film, Smoking Causes Coughing, is satirical in a way that is both disarming and perplexing. This gory, outlandish superhero comedy with some big laughs is centered on the Tobacco Force, the coolest Avengers unit comprised of Nicotine (Anaïs Demoustier), Mercury (Jean-Pascal Zadi), Methanol (Vincent Lacoste), Ammonia (Oulaya Amara), and Benzene (Gilles Lellouche). Although saviors of humanity, they struggle with emotional problems themselves and egotistic instincts. But one thing bonds them tightly: the love for grim, scary stories.

The five vigilantes led by Chief Didier (Alain Chabat), literally an old rat with drooling problems, is put to a test when Lizardin (Benoit Poelvoorde), the Emperor of Evil, decides to annihilate the Earth.

More of a sketch film willing to entertain adult audiences with the spirit of TV comedies of the ‘70s than anything else, Smoking Causes Coughing bears a horde of pop curiosities and caustic yet valid social commentary about saving our planet and the dangers of compromising technology (the presence of advanced robots - one suicidal and one retarded - is not by chance). To spice things up, he interlaces the droll mockery with disgustingly bloody scenes. Certain jokes have a forced quality, but there's something gleefully self-aware about them. 

Dupieux’s antics are provocative, psychedelic and unapologetic. His film, so well titled, so funny, so pathetic and so bizarre, is also so memorable for all that.

The Night of the 12th (2023)

Direction: Dominik Moll
Country: France 

German-born French director Dominik Moll (With a Friend Like Harry, 2000; Only the Animals, 2019) confirms an extraordinary maturity in The Night of the 12th, painting with grippingly realistic touches and surgical precision the scenario of a crime investigation and the mental struggle that consumes two cops. The film, a slow-burning noir thriller that alerts for femicide, was adapted from a 50-page passage of the book 18.3 - Une année à la PJ (2020) by Pauline Guéna. 

With a straight-line narration, this funeral fable turns our attention to brutal violence against women, rising above common trappings with the help of carefully modulated performances by Bastien Bouillon and Bouli Lanners. The former is Yohan, the newly appointed judiciary police captain in Grenoble, who gets obsessed with the case of a young woman burned alive in a small town; the latter is Marceau, an impulsive veteran officer going through a painful divorce.

Moll and his regular collaborator Gilles Marchand co-wrote the film with seriousness, making it less immediately stunning and sometimes hardly pleasurable to watch. Yet, this is a considerably impactful and realistic cinematic experience. The inexhaustible mystery persists in a story that, even wholly absorbing, is full of blank uneasiness. It can be frustrating to follow these cops, both locked in their solitude and lost in their leads.

Other People's Children (2023)

Direction: Rebecca Zlotowski
Country: France 

In her most accomplished work to date, Rebecca Zlotowski (Grand Central, 2013; An Easy Girl, 2019) encapsulates more than just a simple romance. Pruning rather than emphasizing, the plot is a realistic evocation of motherhood as experienced by Rachel (Virginie Efira), a caring 40-year-old middle-school teacher who desires a child of her own but ends up deeply attached to the five-year-old daughter (Callie Ferreira-Goncalves) of his new partner (Roschdy Zem). When things go in an unexpected direction, it’s necessary to come to terms with her own feelings. After all, a separation means two losses, not just one. Emotionally damaged and poked with unfairness, Rachel opts to remain in the background because she’s not the confrontational type.

The topic, rarely addressed in cinema, is treated with luminous candor and simplicity by Zlotowski, whose attentive gaze is empowered by Efira’s performance. The Belgian-born actress continues to astound with the depth of her characterizations - recent examples are Benedetta (2021), Waiting for Bojangles (2021), and Revoir Paris (2022). 

Other People’s Children is a tone poem of a film that entangles tenderness and cruelty within a mix of refined classicism and breezy modernity. The emotional waves are never allowed to erode the unflinching truthfulness of the film’s insights. Accordingly, with intelligent nuance molding storytelling, this is a drama that, in the end, reaches our hearts.

The Covenant (2023)

Direction: Guy Ritchie
Country: USA

British filmmaker Guy Ritchie, whose career path had a brilliant start with Lock, Stock and Two Smocking Barrels (1998) and then fell into poor action flick clichés that kept going until the recent Operation Fortune (2023), returns to good form with The Covenant, a searing war drama with considerable edge-of-your-seat moments. In truth, there’s nothing mind-blowing in this fictional Afghanistan War story, but even if it doesn't shake us like a blast, it is not an unpleasant watch. I was not disappointed with the action scenes, which still indicate Ritchie’s tendency for bellicose cinema, but both the tension created and story development are more favorable this time. He also co-wrote and produced the film.

Jake Gyllenhaal and Dar Salim star as the steadfast Master Sargent John Kinley and the intriguing Afghan interpreter Ahmed, respectively. Ahmed saves Kinley’s life when his unit is ambushed by the Taliban, but then is forced to hide with his family as the enemies put a high price on his head. Outraged by the apathy of the US Army in dealing with this matter, Kinley decides to follow his conscience and rescue him himself. It’s a linear but straightforward plot about retribution. 

Often captured with handheld camera and featuring a score that emphasizes as much the heroic as the emotional side of things, The Covenant is not earth-shatteringly exciting, but manages to trace the political and cultural scenario of the time without overstuffing things.

Are You There God? It's Me Margaret (2023)

Direction: Kelly Fremon Craig
Country: USA 

Adapted from Judy Blume’s controversial middle-grade novel from 1970, Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret follows Margaret Simon (Abby Ryder Fortson), a lovely, curious and perceptive 11-year-old who reluctantly moves from New York to New Jersey with her affectionate parents, Herb (Benny Safdie) and Barbara (Rachel McAdams). The former comes from a Jewish family, whereas the latter was raised in an extremist Christian environment. This factor creates a dilemma for Margaret who decides not to follow a religion until she tries them out by herself and reaches a conclusion. Still, she has daily  talks with her ‘God’ whenever a concern emerges.

Other than that, she experiences the bliss of being kissed for the first time, the excitement of a real crush, bursts of anger when things don’t go as planned, disappointment with friends, impatience and excitement when facing or not facing the physical changes of puberty, repentance when doing wrong, and some family surprises. 

This sweet, tender and feel-good coming-of-age comedy hits a few spots. But it has more than that; it is educational, bright in tone, and a victory in portraying a lovely character going through a strange phase in life. The director of The Edge of Seventeen (2016), Kelly Fremon Craig, captures all this with that rare trick of being both intelligent and amusing. Moreover, her script induces the right pace and makes the most of the young actors’ spontaneity - especially Fortson and Elle Graham who give sensational performances. 

Considering the numerous traps associated with the material, this brave, funny leap into womanhood and religious consciousness stands in good stead.

Blue Jean (2023)

Direction: Georgia Oakley
Country: UK

Sharing its title with David Bowie’s great 1984 song, Blue Jean is Georgia Oakley’s feature debut, a lesbian-themed drama film starring Rosy McEwen as the title character, plus Lucy Halliday and Kerrie Hayes. 

In 1988 Britain under Section 28, a divorced PE teacher (McEwen) hides her homosexuality due to the fear of losing her job. But life changes abruptly when she stumbles upon Lois (Halliday), one of her 15-year-old students, at the gay bar where she often meets with her girlfriend, Viv (Hayes), and their friends.

Shot in 16mm, the film is met more often with “meh” than “wow” reactions, being a bit soapy in spots. It’s disconcerting how this potentially good story didn’t touch me a bit. While the importance of the topic slips up with the poor chemistry between the actors, every attempt by Oakley to make it guileless falls apart. It’s perhaps a little over-reliant on a script that is not particularly clever. 

Jean’s passive voice doesn't align with her true intentions and she desperately tries to mend the damage on every front. The filmmaker probably counted on the natural charisma of McEwen to make the difference, but it didn't suffice. Even if the agenda does come with good intentions, the developments are less daring than expected, making Blue Jean a shockingly dull work with which I wasn’t able to connect.

Enys Men (2023)

Direction: Mark Jenkin
Country: UK 

It’s only half-way into the story of Enys Men that things start to click. A non-linear structure intertwines flashbacks from other times and tricks of the mind, disorienting apparitions, strong symbology, unexplainable physical mutations, and a panoply of selected eerie sounds - all these aspects work toward emotional resonance in this heart-stopping folk horror film set in 1973.

A volunteer scientific researcher (Mary Woodvine) observes a rare flower and lichen on a desert island off the coast of Cornwall in South West England. She takes daily notes of her meticulous observations. Strangely, the more her mind tries to focus, the more it sinks into a ghostly nightmare that reveals tragic past occurrences. 

This is the sophomore feature and first foray into the horror genre by arthouse filmmaker Mark Jenkin (Bait, 2019), who wrote the script, photographed, edited, and composed the original score for the film. Shot in 16mm and presented in 4:3 aspect ratio, the grainy colored film feels somewhat minimalistic in the process but it’s never boring, scoring points against other similar folklore-inspired fictions.

Let me remind you that Enys Men, which means stone island in Cornish, is more about sustained creepiness than actual big scares. There’s this indelible sense of isolation, uncanniness and mystery enveloping a skimpy but relentlessly chilly mystery that ingrains the mind after it grabs the senses. Jenkin demonstrates remarkable artistry in the manner he handles the material, and will leave you guessing until the end.

Return to Seoul (2023)

Direction: Davy Chou
Country: South Korea / France / other

Starring Park Ji-min, an immensely talented newcomer, Return to Seoul is a chronicle of disillusion and self-discovery that, avoiding clichés and character victimization, is both tough and tender as well as genuine and touching. The third feature from Davy Chou (Golden Slumbers, 2011; Diamond Island, 2016), who based himself on the life of a Korean friend, deals with two delicate subjects: the confrontation of cultures and the search for one's origins. 

The director, who was born in France to Cambodian parents, identified himself with part of the story as he only visited Cambodia at the age 25. Just like Frederique (Ji-min), the volatile protagonist of the film, who, at that same age, leaves France - where she was adopted as a baby - to visit her country of birth, South Korea. Even denying it at first, her conscious intention is to connect with their biological parents (Oh Kwang-rok, Choi Cho-woo).

Life sends her in different directions - from wild partygoer to intoxicated gothic to missile negotiator - but the fear of abandonment never leaves her. She can be spirited, aggressive, offensive, and even mean sometimes as she abruptly cuts ties with the ones she loves. All her unexpected behaviors come from the sadness of lacking an identity and fear of rejection. Will she ever have relief from this eternal quest? 

There’s total involvement from the cast, which gives rise to a stunning authenticity, yet it’s Ji-min, a visual artist, who carries the film on her shoulders. A few funny moments decompress the heaviness of deep emotional wounds that need courage and a long process to heal. Return to Seoul is a compellingly constructed, deeply felt drama.

No Bears (2022)

Direction: Jafar Panahi
Country: Iran

Filmmaker Jafar Panahi, who was arrested in July 2022 for propaganda against the Iranian regime, releases another clandestine film that shows his tenacious resistance in the face of an outrageous governmental ban that impedes him from working normally and leaving the country. Even bounded and watched in his moves, his creativity and true passion for cinema are outstanding.

No Bears is a smartly scripted independent film that is as attractive in form as in substance. It’s a fiction-reality hybrid tragedy with a few subtle touches of comedy whose rewards are timeless.

Panahi stars as himself. He spends a number of days in a small Iranian village near the Turkish border, but is furtively directing a film in Tehran with the help of a small crew. They are attempting to stage the true story of Zara (Mina Kavani) and Bakhtiar (Bakhtiar Panjei), a married couple who strive to leave the country with fake passports. At the same time, in the village, he witnesses the tragedy of a young couple in love, betrayed by the severity of outdated ancient traditions. 

Standing near the border, the filmmaker is tempted to cross it. He’s observed closely by suspicious and superstitious locals, and learns that even taking a simple picture can cause him serious problems. 

The action tenses up by the end, and there’s a level of urgency and frustration that screams in every shot; it’s the pure magic of cinema versus the harsh pain of reality presented with simple scenarios and genuine characters. I’m amazed at how Panahi transforms the truth to tell the truth, creating situations with astringent emotion and sharp political commentary. When censors try to tie his hands, he responds with this: a new gem of Iranian cinema.

Chile '76 (2023)

Direction: Manuela Martelli
Country: Chile / Argentina

Chile ’76 is a slow-burning political drama thriller that shapes into a moody spying conspiracy. Actress-turned-director Manuela Martelli captures how it feels to live under the authoritarian regime of Augusto Pinochet, and how some privileged upper-middle class folks risk their lives to protect political resistants. She makes her directorial feature debut with this film.

Carmen (Aline Kuppenheim), the anxious wife of a renowned doctor in Santiago, takes a break from the city by spending a few days in the small village where she has a summer house, now under renovation. Not without surprise, the local priest, Father Sanchez (Hugo Medina), asks for her help with a severely wounded young man (Nicolás Sepúlveda), an opponent of the regime, whom he’s been sheltering in secret.

Growing fond of this sympathetic dissident, Carmen agrees to make the bridge between him and his group, so he can return safely. A scary and dangerous task that includes meeting points, signals and precise instructions to be followed. 

The film takes its time to build, advancing steadily and surely but never expanding outside its atmospheric cocoon. We have the perfect sense that eyes are everywhere, even where least expected, and Martinelli plays with that factor. However, she misses the opportunity to create that type of tension that makes us shiver and sweat with fear. Preferring the cold approach, the sharply observed Chile ’76 carries off a readable merge between the personal and the political.

The Eight Mountains (2023)

Direction: Felix Van Groeningen, Charlotte Vandermeersch
Country: Italy / Belgium / other

This adaptation of Paolo Cognetti's book by the Belgian couple Felix Van Groeningen (The Misfortunates, 2009; The Broken Circle Breakdown, 2012) and Charlotte Vandermeersch reveals quality in both the writing and direction. It’s also convincingly acted by Luca Marinelli (Martin Eden, 2019) and Alessandro Borghi (The First King, 2019), who worked together prior to this film in Claudio Caligari’s Don’t Be Bad (2015).

The well-meaning attempt to depict an unfailing, genuine friendship between two men with very different personalities throughout the years drifts away from sloppiness and pettiness. The topics are treated objectively, bringing us valuable humane feelings. In a profusion of sensitivity, The Eight Mountains sneaks up on you, annotating the roots, visions, and choices of Pietro (Marinelli), a man from the city who is curious about the world, and Bruno (Borghi), a man born in and faithful to the mountains. They first met at a very young age in Grana, a tiny Northwestern Italian village near the Alps. 

Displaying a rare delicacy and sincerity, the film captures these childhood friends navigating the peaks and valleys of life. In their distinct paths, both find pleasant discoveries but also tremendous difficulties at some point. The Eight Mountains is a somewhat long saga that, nevertheless, is hard to forget. Imposing itself without flamboyance, this is powerful cinema one can compare to reading a good old novel. The narrative gains deeper meaning with the magnificent mountainous landscape of Aosta Valley, beautifully captured by the lens of cinematographer Ruben Impens, and a peaceful folk and country-flavored soundtrack by the Swedish singer-songwriter Daniel Norgren.

Sisu (2023)

Direction: Jalmari Helander
Country: Finland 

In its 90 minutes of butchery and greed, Sisu permeates the constant hyperbolic violent scenes with surprising comedic infusions. Told in seven chapters, the story - set during Finland’s Lapland War and about a lone, “immortal” former commando turned gold digger - is immoderate in tone and embellished with a lot of cartoonish Tarantino-like pulp. Although technically competent, we are pushed into the ridicule of overwrought action sequences and a notorious inability to aim higher than the basics. 

Jormi Tomilla, who worked with the Finnish director Jalmari Helander in his two previous features (Rare Exports, 2010; Big Game, 2014), was perfect for the role. Some of his scenes are painful to watch but one keeps interested in this scarred, silent old soldier whose wounds heal spectacularly fast - yes, like a superhero! That’s until the arrival of a terrible final chapter packed with such implausible situations that you can’t help feeling a bit dumb. 

The menacing goth score by Juri Seppä and Tuomas Wäinölä enhances the dehumanizing brutality of war in a film where any thoughtfulness that could still exist is rapidly washed away in blood. The film will likely make the day of those fond of violence, but should be superfluous for audiences expecting cleverer plots.

Inside (2023)

Direction: Vasilis Katsoupis
Country: USA

Slightly intriguing yet not particularly mind-blowing, Inside is a part artsy, part survival psychological thriller written by Ben Hopkins (The Nine Lives of Tomas Katz, 2000; The Market, 2008), directed by Vasilis Katsoupis (in his directorial debut), and almost exclusively starred by Willem Dafoe (The Lighthouse, 2019; Tommaso, 2019). He plays a notorious art thief whose life becomes threatened when he gets trapped in a luxurious Manhattan penthouse.

Before we see this coordinated heist getting wrong, Nemo (Dafoe), the narrator-thief tells that, above anything else, art is for keeps. He also confesses he likes a challenge, but probably not one like he was about to describe. In search of valuable works by the expressionist Egon Schiele, this art maniac will have to fight for his life when locked in a fancy apartment with barely no food, no water, no cooking gas, and no landline phone service. If this was not enough, a broken thermostat gets him freezing cold and sweltering hot by turns. The discomfort goes even further as the fridge automatically plays that annoying “Macarena” song whenever its door remains open for more than a minute.

Inside is like Cube (1997) without the inventiveness of sci-fi. It’s too ponderous and controlled to provide any thrills, and the lack of rhythm makes any possible isolation-driven tension dissipate. 

A minimalistic piano score attempts to potentiate the solitude of a man on the verge of losing his mental sanity. There’s also this surreal side - introduced via eerie dreams - that doesn’t take us anywhere tangible. I found this unfinished nightmare to be more pretentious than gripping, yet kudos to Dafoe for the dedicated performance.

R.M.N. (2023)

Direction: Cristian Mungiu
Country: Romania 

R.M.N. is a dark, complex, sometimes strange work that attempts to open peoples’ eyes to real problems through the sociological and psychological description of its characters. This drama, written and directed by the ever-interesting Cristian Mungiu (4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days, 2007; Graduation, 2016), is a powerful examination of European struggles and fragilities. The title is a Romanian acronym for nuclear magnetic resonance.

Depicting modern violence and irrational fears within a multiethnic village in the heart of Transylvania, the film is properly informed about rejection, division, machismo, fiery populism, frustration, and nationalism. Opposite values clash within an emotionally unbalanced community that brings xenophobia and violence to the fore. Everything’s toxic here, even the fear we breathe during long fixed takes.

The story follows Matthias (Marin Grigore), who returns to his home village after a failed work experience in Germany. He’s concerned with the education of his son, Rudi (Mark Blenyesi), who has been dealing with irrational anxieties lately to the point of stopping to speak, as well as with the health of his father, Otto (Andrei Finți). He's clearly not on good terms with his wife (Macrina Bârlădeanu) but remains smitten by an ex-girlfriend, Csilla (Judith State), who manages a bakery that just started hiring foreign workers. This triggers xenophobic and racist movements among the locals. 

In his recognizable style, Mungiu knows exactly where to pinch and call our attention to the unjustified anger of ignorant people and the powerlessness of those who care. The final shot may be a bit too off, but will make you think about the intentions of the author, whose clinical observations and intended unpredictability are reaffirmed.