Rotting in the Sun (2023)

Direction: Sebastian Silva
Country: Chile 

While relaxing in a Mexican gay nude beach, Chilean filmmaker Sebastián Silva meets American comedian and social media influencer Jordan Firstman, who is a fan of his movies. Despite Silva’s initial reservations, they agrees to an artistic collaboration. The two personalities feast on caricatural portrayals of themselves and mock death in this shaggy-dog meta-narrative called Rotting in the Sun. The true standout in the movie is Chilean actress Catalina Saavedra, who skillfully reprises her role as a morally-resistant maid - a character that garnered critical  acclaim in Silva’s second feature, The Maid (2009).

The film unfolds in two distinct halves, and unfortunately, neither proves satisfying. The first part comes off as gratuitous, fixating on the visibly depressed director engrossed in Romanian author Emil Cioran’s book The Trouble of Being Born while contemplating existential struggles and suicide. It’s also pelted with drawn-out, unsimulated sex scenes that add absolutely nothing to the plot. The second part takes a bleak turn, dealing with real death and disappearance, and adopting an investigative and slightly more thrilling tone. However, it fails to shake off the programmatic nature that plagues the narrative.

Silva's direction falters while striving to shock the audience at every juncture, and the repetitive scenes never compensate the lack of ideas. What could have been a provocative satire ended up feeling excessively simulated, derailed by an uncontrolled impetus that only makes it further rigid and cold. In the end, the uninspired director delivers a poor reality-fiction hybrid that proves challenging for the audience to engage with. Unapologetically unpleasant, the film feels stale, like it has been left to rot in the sun.

Bottoms (2023)

Direction: Emma Seligman
Country: USA 

Although exhibiting a proper tonal consistency and acted with intentness, Emma Seligman’s sophomore feature, Bottoms, fails short of the wit and tension showcased in her directorial debut, Shiva Baby (2020). It’s not that the characters lack empathetic eccentricity, but rather that the director amplifies the imbecility in the last quarter to the point of sacrificing any potential subtlety for depthless. 

The story, co-written by Seligman and Rachel Sennott - who also stars - revolves around two unpopular teenage gay girls and best friends: PJ (Sennott) and Josie (Ayo Edebiri). They initiate a feminist self-defense fight club at Rockbridge Falls High School, not necessarily to protect themselves from the giant male football players, but to woo the hot cheerleaders they’ve set their sights on. While the shy Josie is smitten with Isabel (Havana Rose Liu), the outgoing PJ is charmed by Brittany (Kaia Gerber). Amidst unorthodox fight and defense tactics, they learn to share their traumas. 

Alternating between crude rebelliousness and soapy tenderness, the film races through the scenes with sharp-tongued cheekiness, a loud-and-brash posture, and pathetic behavior. It’s off-the-wall and carries an energetic vibe that injects dynamism. However, it often feels forced in its subversiveness and becomes quite dull on occasion, seemingly detached from reality as it favors a puerile absurdity. While most of the jokes are satisfying, only a couple truly land as clever jabs.

Bottoms provides gay-themed material aimed at teens with a level of insight that rarely rises above standard parody. It didn’t resonate with me, but at least the cast appears to have had a blast in this feminist celebration of love, youth, and friendship.

El Conde (2023)

Direction: Pablo Larraín
Country: Chile

Acclaimed Chilean director Pablo Larraín continues in biopic mode with El Conde, a film centered around Chilean dictator Augusto Pinochet, following cinematic idiosyncrasies such as Jackie (2016, about Jackeline Kennedy), Neruda (2016, about Pablo Neruda), and Spencer (2021, about Lady Diana). This time, Larraín ventures deep into surrealism, transforming Pinochet into a 250-year-old vampire in a fable that is both somber and facetious. 

Drawing from German Expressionism (Nosferatu and Vampyr are references) as well as absurdism, the director creates a sinister black-and-white world of fantasy to denounce real sinners and their indelible sins from the past. A mysterious British woman, whose identity is revealed by the end to our surprise, narrates the story of Pinochet (Jaime Vadell), a mediocre royalist French soldier turned oppressive commander and vampire. Years after committing atrocities, he now seeks death. His wife, Lucia (Gloria Münchmeyer), betrays him with his loyal slave and master of torture, Fyodor (Alfredo Castro), who is also a vampire. The scenario is further complicated with the arrival of his five greedy children, and Carmen (Paula Luchsinger is phenomenal), a sweet and sly nun disguised as an accountant and secretly assigned to exorcise him from evil. Unexpectedly, in love, the weak count just needs fresh blood (or a human heart smoothie) from young people to rejuvenate. He no longer wants to die.

Equipped with daring shots, classical arias, religious chants, and a fair dose of madness, the ultra-hype El Conde is delirious and violent. It’s carried out with audacity and virtuosity, showcasing the filmmaker’s mastery of his art. The film is far from making a fully formed organic statement, but that wasn’t Larraín’s intention. Fearless of the result, he focused on satirizing with imagination and scathing black humor, metaphorically condemning the man while also providing entertaining.

Cassandro (2023)

Direction: Roger Ross Williams
Country: USA

The empathetic autobiographical drama Cassandro delves into the true story of Saul Armendáriz, a gay amateur wrestler from El Paso who, in the early 1980’s, catapulted from anonymity to fame after creating the ‘Exótico' character that lends the film its title. Directed by Roger Ross Williams, known for documentaries  such as God Loves Uganda, Life Animated, and The Apollo, and co-written with David Teague, this rare hybrid soars more than it lumbers, brimming with insight and cinematic flair. It marks the director’s narrative debut feature.

The plot offers an intimate look at Saul’s dreams, struggles, and life - the breathlessness of a young, creative fighter seeking for recognition and the adult realization that life, no matter its accomplishments, is not without hardships. The protagonist, competently portrayed by Gael Garcia Bernal, lives with his loving mother and true inspiration, Yocasta (Perla de la Rosa). He also maintains a secret yet frustrating relationship with a married wrestler (Raúl Castillo), and unsuccessfully tries to cope with the emptiness left by an absent father who suddenly vanished after he came out at the age of 15. Occasional flashbacks peek into the characters’ past without succumbing to melodramatic trappings.

Provocative without being excessively flamboyant, Cassandro is endowed with remarkable performances, underlining themes of freedom, courage, and ambition in most scenes; it offers an engrossing exploration of Saul’s duality in life. For the way it was done, it doesn’t necessarily beg for attention, but it certainly earns it.

Landscape With Invisible Hand (2023)

Direction: Cory Finley
Country: USA 

From Cory Finley - the director of Bad Education (2019) and Thoroughbreds (2017) - comes Landscape With Invisible Hand, an offbeat sci-fi romantic comedy drama with fitting social commentary but grappling with an uneven narrative pulse. The film, an adaptation of M.T. Anderson's novel of the same name, ventures down devious pathways, losing track of a potential cinematic provocation due to storytelling veering into self-indulgence and characters who often feel emotionally distant. It’s also visually restrained for a futuristic tale.

While the film doesn't falter on every level, boasting occasional successful black humor and delightful tensions between families, it generally lacks soul and struggles to connect with the theme of an alien seeking entertainment through teenage love. 

The director, concerned with charting trajectories of human subjugation and alien ascendancy, remains on the surface, weaving a crass hodgepodge of elements that don’t fully coalesce. However, respectable performances by Asante Blackk, Kylie Rogers, and Tiffany Haddish were a positive surprise, and that paid off in places.

Talk To Me (2023)

Direction: Danny Philippou, Michael Philippou
Country: Australia

Talk To Me is a solid addition to the horror genre, placing teenagers at the heart of its chilling narrative. It marks the directorial debut of the Philippou Brothers, awarded YouTubers who worked on Jennifer Kent’s acclaimed The Babadook (2014). The directors squeeze out considerable crawling tension throughout an ambitious film that culminates with a sickening poignant ending.

The plot revolves around a group of teenagers seeking thrills by conjuring spirits using a mysterious embalmed hand. As they become ensnared in this perilous game, tragic events unfold, plunging them into a nightmarish ordeal filled with malevolent spirits and dripping with cold sweats.

Devilishly effective, this modest yet compelling Australian production delves deep into the psychological realm. It grapples with serious issues affecting today’s youth, including absence, grief, depression, and social media addiction.

While employing some familiar horror tropes and encountering minor stumbling blocks in the plot, the film masterfully maintains a grip on the audience, evoking a sense of unease throughout. Each scene is perfectly controlled, and the special effects - favoring more physical than digital techniques - contribute to an immersive visual experience. Hence, despite its flaws and the relatively simple concept, Talk To Me proves to be a successful spookster for the majority of its runtime.

The Bohemian (2023)

Direction: Petr Václav
Country: Czech Republic / Italy / Slovakia 

Eight years after dedicating a documentary to Josef Myslivecek, the talented Czech director Petr Václav unleashes his imagination by crafting a full-length fictional biopic about this Prague-born composer whose operas influenced the young Mozart and earned acclaim in 18-century Italy. Despite this, he lived penniless throughout his life and was quickly forgotten.

The story, constructed as a long flashback, covers his life and work in Italy. There’s a curious prologue that portrays the disfigured composer (Vojtěch Dyk) struggling to survive in 1971 Rome. The narrative winds back to 1765 Venice, when he declined to marry a wealthy cello student to pursue a scalding relationship with a hedonistic aristocrat (Elena Radonicich ) who manages to put him in contact with the most celebrated opera singer of that time, the moody Caterina Gabrielle (Barbara Ronchi). His career takes off in Naples, and eventually leading him to Bologna, where he reunites with the love of his life, Baroness Anna Fracassati (Lana Vladi). But this woman is held captive by a violent and jealous husband. In Padua, syphilis gets him disfigured, and he departs to Rome later for a cold, futile musical reunion with Gabrielli.  

Classical music and carnal pleasure go hand in hand in a film that captures the charm and the vulgarity of the eccentric artistic society of that era. Humor is often present but the film is not devoid of disturbing moments. Václav portrays all of this marvelously, and his grandiose ambition is rewarded with beautifully composed shots, impressive lighting techniques, detailed settings, and an elegant costume design. Yet, by always placing the characters at the forefront, there’s a bittersweet, mundane flavor that thwarts any artsy pretension. 

Even with some deviations from historical truth, the director provides a fair view of the artist and his personality, in a ballsy move that avoids the pitfalls of academicism and period dramas.

Beau is Afraid (2023)

Direction: Ari Aster
Country: USA 

Beau is Afraid is a quirky Freudian odyssey with an unhinged mother/son relationship at the center and some elliptical Kafkaesque situations. Starting off well, it takes a descending curve over the course of a disjointed structure. This exhausting three-hour trip to the edge of madness stars Joaquin Phoenix as the title character. However, even shifting extraordinarily in attitude from child fragility to adulthood deliriums, he’s powerless in the face of an overstuffed script that serves as a lopsided vehicle for his outstanding acting skills. 

For a film by Ari Aster, who gave us horror gems like Hereditary (2018) and Midsommar (2019), it is unspeakably disappointing. It would have been a better horror comedy if it didn’t suffocate in its own ideas. Everything appears to follow a sort of code that needs deciphering, and the systematic metaphors become tiresome as we delve into the real/surreal aspects of a neurotic man whose severe childhood trauma prevents him from finding happiness. Beau tries to reach his mother’s place in time, both before and after her death, but with no success. 

Playing with twisted dimensions and labyrinthine layers, Aster squanders the chance to lead a few good ideas to fruition. The result, much less fascinating than expected, is congested and appalling.

The Origin of Evil (2023)

Direction: Sébastien Marnier
Country: France 

The Origin of Evil is a petty comedic thriller with an ostentatious profusion of pretenses. Following Faultless (2016) and School’s Out (2018), writer-director Sébastien Marnier delivers another story centered on class defectors that lures one in at an early stage, keeping the audience on edge with a tight mysterious grasp until everything is suddenly revealed. Afterward, it falls into pure thriller routine with no smarts.

Equipped with a great cast but in need of better editing, the film follows Nathalie (Laure Calamy), a modest young woman who decides to meet her estranged, wealthy father (Jacques Weber) for the first time. Battling illness, this man lives controlled by his wife (Dominique Blanc), a compulsive consumerist; his arrogant daughter (Doria Tillier), who took over his businesses; and a constantly vigilant housekeeper (Véronique Ruggia). Although highly caricatured, not a single character is likable. 

Affected by the imposter syndrome, this is the kind of film where you cannot find a trace of honesty, and you know it beforehand. The director employs a bunch of deceits as narrative propellers, but the film, paralyzed by aloofness, runs out of ideas fairly quickly, leaving us with a general feeling that not everything is quite clicking the way it could have. I found myself struggling to find the laughs while observing avid women battling one another fiercely for dominance and acceptance.

Amerikatsi (2023)

Direction: Michael A. Goorjian
Country: Armenia

American actor, director and writer Michael A. Goorjian gazes at the tough fate of Charlie (played by the director), a survivor of the Armenian genocide who, having lived in the US since the age of four, returns to Armenia decades later to help rebuild a country that fell under Soviet sovereignty. His good intentions are defeated after bumping into a sympathetic woman, Sona (Nelli Uvarova), whose jealous husband Dmitry (Mikhail Trukhin) - a high-ranking Russian officer - sends him to prison on false accusations of religious propaganda, cosmopolitanism and capitalism.

As a child, Charlie was encouraged by his grandmother to never lose his smile no matter what life brings to him, and he takes that advice literally. When everything seems lost, from his cell window, he finds amusement in peeking a loving couple in a neighboring apartment. The man is Tigran (Hovik Keuchkerian), Sona’s brother and a censored artist turned prison tower guard. 

Filmed with warmth, the film doesn’t leave behind much of a climax but is gorgeously photographed, with Goorjian making the most of the material with a quiet candor that, well anchored in emotion, is never excessively sentimental. Despite the harsh story, he’s able to leave the audience with a smile on their faces by handling serious matters in funny ways. He follows the same positivity that Roberto Benigni adopted in Life is Beautiful (1997). 

Amerkatsi doesn't transcend drama or comedy conventions, but uses the steep contrast between injustice and human values to bolster its narrative; all with the help of a full-blooded direction, a gently satirical tone, and fine performances. The bittersweet ending will leave you reflecting on life after liberation.

Joyland (2023)

Direction: Saim Sadiq
Country: Pakistan

Co-written and directed by Saim Sadiq, the semi-autobiographical social drama Joyland confronts change and forbidden desires in the ultra-conservative, patriarchal-centered Pakistani society. Although unrefined in the visual treatment, it’s a tragic tale of despair with important aspects to be absorbed.

The film stars Ali Junejo and Rasti Farooq as Haider and Mumtaz, respectively. Their marriage was arranged and their sexual life is unfulfilling, but they are good friends and support each other. Despite the constant pressure of his family, with whom they live in Lahore, the couple is not interested in having kids. Also not well tolerated is the fact that he remains unemployed, helping with the home chores, while she is the breadwinner, working in a beauty salon. Their situation will change drastically when the meek Haider accepts a job at the Erotic Dance Theater and meets Biba (Alina Khan), an impetuous, outspoken transgender who tries to survive on her own terms. 

Sadiq signs a controlled film; a personal statement that embraces all aspects of its humanity, from vulnerability to strength and everything in between. The loneliness of the characters and misunderstood desires are explicitly painful, contributing to a heavy atmosphere where the portrait of masculinity doesn't conform with the established rules. 

The realistic depiction, clarity of purpose, occasional gallows humor, and crucial message - with equality and freedom of choice at the center - are the reasons for the movie’s success, but the execution is a bit tacky, when it could have been aesthetically cinematic. Joyland was the first Pakistani feature to be shown at Cannes, where it won the Queer Palm and the Un Certain Regard Jury Prize.

Captain Volkonogov Escaped (2023)

Direction: Natalya Merkulova, Aleksey Chupov
Country: Russia 

Tautly written and directed by Natalya Merkulova and Aleksey Chupov, Captain Volkonogov Escaped is a gripping, visceral drama thriller with solid acting and arresting cinematography. It takes the form of a furious post-modernist parable where mystic elements infiltrate a dark, horrific reality denounced at a breathless pace. The film is set against the backdrop of the Great Purge, Stalin’s violent 1938 campaign to solidify his absolutism, which resulted in the arrest, torture and execution of about a million people. 

Captain Fyodor Volkonogov (Yuri Borisov) is a high-ranking agent within the law enforcement unit known as National Security Service (NKVD). He’s been a merciless torturer and executioner for years. However, by observing the madness around him - innocent people confess crimes every day under heavy torture while young agents can’t stand the pressure of their duties and commit suicide - he decides to escape the governmental organization in order to save his soul. He sets off on a desperate and unstoppable mission in seek of forgiveness, which, urged by the ghost of his late best friend and colleague ‘Kiddo’ Veretennikov (Nikita Kukushkin), becomes more important than life itself. But will someone within the victims’ families be able to forgive a monster like him? 

Carrying a rare intensity in the narrative, which recalls literary works by Dostoyevsky and Bulgakov, the film is overwhelmingly painful; an original moral tale that, in the guise of a survival thriller, seeks for a trace of humanity. This is grim yet powerful cinema.

Huesera: the Bone Woman (2023)

Direction: Michelle Garza Cervera
Country: Mexico / Peru

This Mexican chiller written and directed by Michelle Garza Cervera, signing here her first feature film, has its way in terms of mood, visuals and storytelling. On top of that, it comes with an insightful message about motherhood, a recurrent subject in horror movies, but one that's rarely treated with such peculiarity and gravitas.

Bolstered by a nervy plot that was executed with efficiency, Huesera: the Bone Woman tells the horrific story of a fearful young woman, Valeria (Natalia Solián), who, after receiving confirmation of her first pregnancy, becomes haunted by a sinister figure and occult forces that interfere with her body and behavior. Self-doubt, emotional confusion and furious delirium impel her to participate in a dismaying ritual led by a trio of witches. It can be her salvation or her ruin. 

This anxiety-inducing exercise in horror, engrained with creepy reality/dream dualities and heavy dark music, also works as a metaphor for unwanted lives camouflaged by false happiness and marked by family and societal impositions. 

Cervera is adroit at manipulating dark settings, dragging us into Valeria’s disturbed psyche and making us hostages there. Huesera, a downright effort composed with trenchant expressions and a spellbinding atmosphere, prefers subtle suggestions to overt statements.

Sick of Myself (2023)

Direction: Kristoffer Borgli
Country: Norway

Sick of Myself is a cruelly ironic and soulless dark comedy drama that flirts with the psychological horror genre. An uneasy, infectiously entertaining romp whose delirious story focuses on two obnoxious narcissists. 

Kristine Kujath Thorp (she delighted us two years ago with Ninjababy) and Eirik Sæther (in his feature debut) star as Signe and Thomas, respectively, two extreme narcissists who keep insanely competing for attention and fame while in a toxic relationship. However, their focuses diverge into distinct directions; whereas he obsesses with his career as a bogus avant-garde artist, she takes her madness further by sacrificing her body and general health in order to get the public’s eye on her. 

Expect to be struck by a mix of sad and funny feelings that, depending on your mood, can delight, depress or infuriate. The sarcastic humor spares no one in a film that aims right, with venom, and painfully hits the right spot in such a manner that we are ready to excuse its redundancies. 

Sadly terrifying and often repulsive, Sick of Myself is not a film I'm likely ever to revisit but is well directed, acted, and observed, even if it takes that observation to a deliberately disturbing satirical degree.

The Lost King (2023)

Direction: Stephen Frears
Country: UK 

Although historically interesting, The Lost King is academic in many aspects, which is upsetting since it comes from Stephen Frears, an experienced director whose major works include Philomena (2013), The Queen (2006), Dirty Pretty Things (2002), and Dangerous Liaisons (1988). Stumbling in a faulty staging, this classically crafted film inspired by an incredible true story, tries too hard to please the audience, but it shrieks as it aims for that middle bar that pushes everything into comedic context. 

This is the story of Philippa Langley (Sally Hawkins), a mother of two with chronic fatigue syndrome whose determination and subjective intuition lead her to the spot where the cursed King Richard III was buried. His body had never been found since his disappearance in the Battle of Bosworth Field in 1485. Guided by passion and obsession, and having fleeting dialogues with the ghost of the king (Harry Lloyd) while roaming through the streets of Edinburgh, she succeeded where many have failed.

Steve Coogan, who also stars as the protagonist’s supportive ex-husband, co-wrote this infinitely modest autobiographical drama with Jeff Pope, never missing an opportunity to adorn the situations with a dash of British humor. 

The dragging first half makes it harder for us to fully enjoy what comes next, and by the time the story reaches its climax, all my excitement has been drained away. All those cynical opportunists, tough sponsors, and difficult excavations don’t emanate enough tension, with Frears struggling to give a consistent rhythm to the storytelling as well as to find a distinctive style. One of those cases where the tedium outweighed the anticipation.

Before, Now & Then (2023)

Direction: Kamila Andini
Country: Indonesia 

The political and emotional observations in Before, Now & Then, in addition to a perfect staging and the floating sense of time of the story, prompt us to consider Kamila Andini a promising contemporary filmmaker. In her debut feature, the 37-year-old Indonesian director and co-writer delivers a sensitive portrait of a woman who, despite living comfortably, suddenly realizes she has not found her place yet. This is set in West Java in the late 1960’s, at the time of Indonesia’s political transition to the New Order of General Suharto.

The feelings are more demonstrated than told, and the film, closed in itself and enveloped in a dreamy aura at an early stage, gradually blossoms into clarity and resolution. The plot centers on Nana (Happy Salma) who, having lost sight of her first husband for 15 years due to political reasons, remarries with a wealthy older man (Arswendy Bening Swara) who cheats on her. Bored with domestic life and with no one to confide her unspoken worries, feelings and unresolved matters, she turns to the last person one could ever imagine: Ino (Laura Basuki), a local market butcher and her husband’s mistress. 

Being very cinematic - with excellent cinematography, image composition, production design, and musical score - and smartly structured, the film relies on a storytelling that envelops without stinging or shocking. Even the worst of the betrayals seems natural here, such is the grace of its proceedings. It’s a gentle hymn to friendship and a powerful feminist statement whose politeness and dreamlike intensity allude to Wong Kar-wai’s unforgettable cinema.

Despite an unnecessary coda that contributes nil to the outcome, Before, Now & Then is a lingeringly rich and unsentimental period drama that expresses more with looks and gestures than with words.

How to Blow Up a Pipeline (2023)

Direction: Daniel Goldhaber
Country: USA 

Marked by radical activism, the action thriller How to Blow Up a Pipeline is a relatively successful adaptation of the book of the same name by Swedish author/researcher Andreas Malm. For the screenplay of his sophomore feature, director Daniel Goldhaber teamed up with Ariela Barer, who also stars, and Jordan Sjol, opting for a handheld camera to intensify the most stressful scenes. 

The plot follows a group of extreme environmental activists who decide to sabotage an oil pipeline in Western Texas, causing severe damage without harming people. All members of this group have their own motives and beliefs, which are further clarified by flashbacks. Their grounds for protesting are strong, but the question persists: is it justifiable to fight back with violence? Moral consciousness opens the debate on the acceptable limits of ecological activism. 

Blending French new wave and Hollywood elements of the ’80s, the film, shot in 16mm, puts on airs while drawing from western and heist film genres. You kind of know how it will play out, but it's an elucidative close-up of destructive behavior in the name of a good cause. Terrorists or saviors of the world? 

Regardless the answer, the film would need more narrative development, a stronger staging, and deeper character insight to fully satisfy. The tension builds up right from the start, and the story flies at full speed, electrifying everything around its path. And yet, this subversive audacity gives way to different feelings as the events unfold in a low-key manner. In the end, it falls short of the expectations, getting a few holes below Kelly Reichardt’s Night Moves (2013), which tackles the same topic with a higher level of competence.

Limbo (2023)

Direction: Ivan Sen
Country: Australia 

Limbo is a haunting neo-noir slow burner written, directed, edited, co-produced, photographed, and scored by the multifaceted Ivan Sen (Mystery Road, 2013; Goldstone, 2016). The film offers a captivating re-examination of an unsolved murder case that victimized a young Aboriginal woman two decades ago. Travis Hurley (Simon Baker), a benumbed cop with a violent past and a heavy drug addiction, arrives in a small, barren mining town in outback Australia to investigate deeper. He contacts the victim’s depressed family members - half-siblings Charlie Hayes (Rob Collins) and Emma (Natasha Wanganeen) - as well as Joseph (Nicholas Hope), the brother of the main suspect at the time. All of them seem to know more than what they say.

Building up slowly but with a hypnotic spell, the film looks like a canvas painted in monochrome style - the unique arid landscape and compelling black-and-white photography make a wonderful match. It exposes not only the current existential emptiness but also the lack of opportunities and injustices endured by the indigenous Australians. 

Carrying all the ingredients of a solid film noir, Limbo has a startlingly unusual climax, shrouded in thick mystery and a sulfurous tone that, at the end, suddenly veers to bittersweet. Despite the shattering suggestions, the film ends on an optimistic note that is both quite surprising and welcoming. With no sensational scenes or thrills, Limbo penetrates our minds with a piercing lethargy.

Palm Trees and Power Lines (2023)

Direction: Jamie Dack
Country: USA 

The first feature from writer-director Jamie Dack, an uncomfortable coming-of-age drama cutely called Palm Trees and Power Lines, takes its time to compellingly tell the story of a 17-year-old girl who begins a treacherous relationship with a man twice her age. The script, co-written with Audrey Findlay, is an expansion of Dack’s 2018 short film of the same name.

Lea (Lily McInerny), 17, can’t really open up to her distant single mother (Gretchen Mol), spending the summertime hanging out with friends of her age. But not even occasional sex can pull her out of boredom. This is until, she meets Tom (Jonathan Tucker), a 34-year-old man who acts shifty but seems to understand her problems. What are the real intentions of this stranger? 

The story attains a sinister emotional vortex after Dack, never heavy-handed in her observations, portrays the blithe excitement of a rose-colored romantic discovery. There are two distinct halves: a more casual one that defines the characters and their milieus, and a tenser, grim last fraction that leads to a sad conclusion. The rawest scenes are stretched out with no music score, reaching a serious level of verisimilitude.

The well-acted Palm Trees and Power Lines is not perfect but frankly impressive. It succeeds in plunging us into the psyche of a teenager, and does it with captivating introspection. Being a movie of an invisible violence and loneliness, it not only packs a punch, but made me actively want to punch the movie characters, whether for their startling naivety or creepy perversion.

Madeleine Collins (2023)

Direction: Antoine Barraud
Country: France

Madeleine Collins, the latest feature by French director Antoine Barraud (Portrait of the Artist, 2014), is an ambitious psychological drama that borders on Hitchcockian thriller. It was co-written with Héléna Klotz (Atomic Age, 2012), and stars Virginie Efira (Benedetta, 2021; Revoir Paris, 2022), who couldn’t have been a better choice for the leading role. With great talent, she embodies Judith, a fragile woman - more generous than treacherous - whose double life gradually disintegrates as her multiple identities are unveiled.

The film involves the viewer in a labyrinth of pitfalls and pretenses that misleads before eventually shedding some light on a story that keeps throbbing with twists. They progressively explain the confusion of its earlier parts, which make you search incessantly for logical grounds. The success, however, comes partially from Barraud, who keeps the pace moving and manages to disconcert at regular intervals while directing with a skillful sense of suspense. 

Elevated by a great performance, this tale only seems possible on screen, but the uncanny undertones of humanity and perversity infused by the protagonist keep us centered on her self-created nightmare. With that said, the whole thing feels familiar, moodwise, without ever veering into cliché.