The Good Boss (2022)

Direction: Fernando León de Aranoa
Country: Spain 

The keen sense of observation demonstrated by Spanish writer/director Fernando León de Aranoa (better known for the sympathetic working-class dramedy Mondays in the Sun, 2002) is on full display in The Good Boss, a timeless, biting comedy with Javier Bardem at the center. This film, an amusing caricature of the so-called corporate values and their politically incorrect behavior, marks the third collaboration between the actor and the director. Their last work together was in 2017, a mediocre biopic about the Colombian druglord Pablo Escobar titled Loving Pablo

Unlike the latter, the screenplay of this one was well driven, offering a dark yet funny portrait of Julio Blanco (Bardem), the manipulative heir and owner of an industrial scale manufacturing business. This well-spoken charmer appears to employ perfection and equilibrium in everything he does. But, at the very bottom, he’s completely alienated by his materialistic ambition; a sly opportunist who uses and abuses his employees whenever it’s convenient. 

While expecting the visit of a local committee that could give him a prestigious and financially advantageous business award, he deals with a series of problems: a recently fired middle-aged employee (Óscar de la Fuente) decided to camp outside the factory and protest vehemently against the unjust measure; a long-time production manager and childhood friend (Manolo Solo) can no longer be trusted at work since his wife is cheating on him; and an irresistible young intern (Almudena Amor) wants more of the boss's attention. 

The rapture of The Good Boss is fed by Bardem’s charisma, the smart and humorous lines, and the fluidity of the story. What we have here is playful cinema at its breeziest, one that combines incisive social commentary and a fierce, funny sneer.

Bull (2022)

Direction: Paul Andrew Williams
Country: UK 

Writer-director Paul Andrew Williams made his directorial debut in 2016 with London to Brighton, releasing now Bull, his fifth theatrical feature and finest offer so far. Dark hues and brutal violence dominate the screen, and most of the dread is coldly served by Neil Maskell (Kill List, 2011; The Football Factory, 2004), who embodies the title character - a ruthless fixer - with a minimalist yet intense performance.

Bull is the type of guy that hurts first and only then asks the questions. He returns home after a mysterious 10-year absence, seeking revenge on his former gang, led by his ruthless father-in-law, Norman (David Hayman). At the same time, he tries to find the whereabouts of his son (Henri Charles), taken away in those days by his erratic, heroin-addict wife (Lois Brabin-Platt). 

This brooding, monstrously barbarous thriller doesn't languish in the graphic, but makes sure to expose it to view, scene after scene. With a devilishly intelligent move toward the end, the film shows the evil that contaminates the hearts of these criminals. It will hook the viewers without sparing them.

Petrov's Flu (2022)

Direction: Kirill Serebrennikov
Country: Russia

Petrov’s Flu is a trippy comedy-drama that depicts a surreal day in the life of a Russian family. The script, based on Alexey Salnikov's 2018 novel The Petrovs In and Around the Flu, was written by director Kirill Serebrennikov (The Student, 2016; Leto, 2018) while he was under house arrest in today’s decadent and hopeless Russia.

This satire aims at a society where unworkable relationships with normalcy are pretty much in evidence - we have demonic possessions, violent murderous impulses, alien rescues, alcohol intoxication, governmental incompetence, racism, moral degradation, and more -  but the story is abstruse to the point of near-absurdity, being an accumulation of endless drama and fantasy that either doesn’t know where to go or how to properly take us to places.

The inarticulation between sections makes it structurally defiant a priori, and the vagueness in the dialogue only increases it. A zestful camera work never makes it less derivative, just like some of its most dynamic moments never lead to practical results. “Are you real or imaginary?” A kid asks the Snow Maiden at a New Year’s party… He struggles with confusion, and so are we.

Too many elements get lost in the sauce because it’s easier to denounce than construct something clear. Despite the prevailing dark tones, the awarded cinematography of Vladislav Opelyants revealed distinctness.